


One way to find out

by tinderbox210



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinderbox210/pseuds/tinderbox210
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You want something.” Lydia gasped offended and turned away from him, but Derek could tell it was nothing but pretense from the way her heartbeat sped up. “Just spit it out, Lydia.”<br/>Her shoulders set and she turned back to him smiling more brightly than before which made all of his warning bells ring like crazy. “It’s just a small favor …</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Change of heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first ‘longer’ Dydia story I’ve written. It’s going to be 6 chapters long - yes, that counts as long for me ;) English is not my primary language, so I apologize for all the mistakes that are probably in it.  
> The rating of the story is based on one of the chapters being of explicit content (not sure if it still counts as mature or already as explicit, but I will put an extra warning in the note of that chapter to be safe).  
> Thank you and enjoy reading.
> 
> Set after season 4

It’s been a few days since their return from Mexico and Derek was still reeling from his experience of almost dying and transforming into a full wolf for the first time. Something he'd never expected to be able to do. It was a rare gift among werewolves, usually reserved for alphas only, even though the ability had been running in his family for generations. Both his mother and his sister had been blessed with it.

He'd been testing his new ability that still felt raw and peculiar, but also very right. For the first time in a long while, since talking to his dead mother and learning about his families’ true legacy as the town’s protectors, Derek felt at peace with himself. Like he'd finally discovered what he was supposed to be all along and found his place again after missing it for so long ever since losing his family.

And with no bounty on his head, crazy ex-girlfriends haunting him and his psychotic uncle locked away, he felt like the world was full of possibilities for once, maybe even a chance for a happy life.

The first thing he noticed was the sound of clicking footsteps on the stairs outside of his loft, followed by the rapid beat of a fluttering heart and a familiar feminine scent saturating the air. It was enough to recognize the visitor on the other side of the steel door as Lydia Martin thanks to his regained wolf senses. He didn’t expect visitors, least of all Lydia, and was curious – and a little wary - to find out what brought her to his place.

Derek waited to open the door until she knocked so he wouldn’t startle her. Lydia’s big eyes snapped up to his face as she greeted him with an uncertain smile.

It was a surprise whenever she showed up at his place, though he should have been used to it by now. And truthfully speaking, she was never an unpleasant sight. Not even half drenched and screaming right in his face at the top of her lungs. Soft and curvy. Like an angel carved from one of Botticelli’s finest paintings.

Derek noticed her carrying a small plant in her hands. Probably a science project for school. To his relief it was no wolfsbane. Lydia and wolfsbane were no good combination. He’d learned that the hard way and wasn’t keen on repeating the experience.

"Lydia.” He greeted her with a nod and slight distrust in his voice. "Don't tell me you're here to foretell my death again."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Funny. Can't I just check up on a friend out of decency?” She slapped his arm playful and swept past him into the loft without waiting for an invitation. _Friend_. The word bounced around his head in strange way. He’d never considered them as friends, not exactly as they had never spend a lot of time together before. They only seemed to cross each other’s path when things got dangerous … he didn’t know what to think of this.

As usual she wore a nice dress that swayed around her hips with every step, along with a fancy bag hanging from her shoulder. Derek always tried his best to overlook her exceptional beauty because of her age, but it was almost impossible not to get drawn into her presence. It was fascinating how a small person like Lydia could walk into a place and own it immediately, becoming the undivided center of attention like a gravitating pull.

"That would be a first,” Derek muttered to himself, too low for the girl to catch it. He didn’t bother to close the door as he didn’t expect Lydia to stay long and followed her back inside the loft.

The short redhead looked around. Her eyes settled on the half-fixed window previously broken by Kate Argent and one of her Berserkers. "Redecorating?"

Derek shrugged. "Almost every piece of furniture’s been broken before."

"Then you should consider moving," she suggested, “if this place is not save enough. Or at least get a proper lock. Not that it would help keeping out psycho ex-girlfriends.” Lydia turned around to face him as she stood in front of the big window with the sunlight illuminating her silhouette and making her red curls shimmer like molten bronze … Derek had to blink several times to clear his head of the image. As said, it was hard _not_ to notice her beauty and get distracted. Especially when her scent penetrated the air like a spring meadow in full bloom. Or was that the plant she was carrying?

It would have been polite to offer her a seat, but the last time she’d chosen to sit on his bed and he hadn’t been able to get her scent out of the covers for days. Part of the reason he hadn’t been able to sleep much before their recent trip to Mexico. Standing was safer.

Lydia’s eyes ran over his body, giving him a quick once-over. “You look good,” she complimented him with a smile which made him raise his eyebrows in surprise. _She wasn’t flirting with him, was she?_ If she was, it was even more reason to be suspicious of her visit. She flushed as she averted her eyes and cleared her throat. “I mean you look … _not dead_ and _that_ is good,” she explained, then quickly changed the subject. “And the boys told me about your new power to turn into a wolf. That’s impressive.” She stepped closer, titled her head to the side and squinted her eyes as she studied his face more intensively. As if she tried to detect any signs of his new ability etched into his human features. “Have you become more hairy?”

Derek chuckled while he rubbed his short beard by instinct. He didn’t think he was more hairy, he just didn’t shave as often as he used to do. But her comment made him wonder if he did change in more ways than he was aware of. If his mind had changed along with his body evolving. If he had some change of heart…

He noted to think about this later while he turned his focus back on the girl in front of him. “You know, this was the second time you predicted my death and turned out wrong,” he pointed out.

“It’s not too far off given your history of bad luck and getting yourself in deadly trouble,” Lydia teased, before her face turned into a serious frown. The smile faded from her lips so fast that it made Derek almost regret his careless comment. He didn’t blame her and didn’t want to make her feel bad about her predictions. It already seemed hard enough for her. Ever since she shared her grandmother’s tragic story with them, he’d realized just how much the girl struggled with her fate as a Banshee.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said with clear sincerity in her voice. “I’m glad I was wrong. And I’m glad my predictions about death aren’t inevitably. Makes me hopeful and … I really needed that after everything that’s been happening the last couple of months.”

Derek nodded in understanding. She was still grieving for her dead friends - the ones she couldn’t save and had to bury at such young age. A shot of warmth spread through his chest. Too often he’d been the reason for other peoples’ misery instead of having a positive effect on their lives like Scott always seemed to have - which Derek admired a lot in the young alpha. It was a nice feeling for a change that he wanted to savor as long as possible.

Lydia chewed on her bottom lip and looked around a little awkward like she was looking for something. “And I bet your _girlfriend_ is happy about this either.” Derek frowned in confusion. Lydia rolled her eyes as she noticed his clueless expression. “GIRLFRIEND,” she repeated slowly like he was as stupid as he felt right now. “Italian boots and big guns?”

Derek blinked in sudden realization. “Oh, you mean Braeden.” For some reason he’d never thought of the mercenary as his girlfriend. Probably because he’d never considered their involvement as an actual relationship either.

“I just thought you two were…“ She fidgeted wildly with her hand in search of the right words, but failed to find them. “You know…”

“She left.” That’s all Derek wanted to say, but Lydia’s expression said clearly she demanded a more detailed explanation. And there was a part of him that wanted to set things straight with her basically being the only one, apart from Peter, who knew for sure that he’d been involved with Braeden since she’d practically walked in on them. That’s why he didn’t like the thought of leaving her with the wrong the impression of how thing had turned out, even though it wasn’t any of her business.

His neck started to heat up and he rubbed it stiffly. “It just didn’t work out, okay? It was never really serious, more like …”

“A band-aid?” Lydia suggested and Derek looked up in surprise when she spoke the exact word that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue. “To an open wound?” She offered a caring smile, echoing the words he’d once heard in a conversation with Scott.

He swallowed hard and nodded. He was astonished by her spot-on observation. That’s exactly what it had been, hadn’t it? Kate, Jennifer … they had both cut him open, left him bleeding and scarred all over his heart. And as usual he had sought comfort with the next best thing, someone he barely knew.

Derek knew it was unfair to assume his attraction to the mercenary had been nothing but a result of him turning human, like she was just a rebound girl, but that’s how it felt now. With his world shifting and his powers slipping, it had been a good enough reason to be with someone who could distract him from counting down the days to his inevitable death. He never truly expected to survive – _how often could a Banshee predict your death before it really happened?_ But now that he was still alive and a werewolf again, he had felt stuck for the wrong reasons – which Braeden noticed and made her leave. And Derek discovered in her absence that he just didn’t miss her the way he should if he’d been in love with her in the first place.

“I understand,” Lydia said softly, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts, and maybe she did because she been there with Jackson and Aiden as well. “So…” She stretched the word while chewing on the inside of her cheek and swaying a little on her heels. “Does that mean I can stop pretending to like her? Because I never did. Those boots were so obsolete! Also I demand a say in the choice of your next girlfriend!”

“What?” He almost sputtered in bewilderment. “Why should you get a say in my love life?”

She shrugged and smiled sweetly while flickering her long hair over her shoulder. “Statistic, sweetheart! Two out of three of your ex-girlfriends tried to kill _me_. It’s only fair that I’ll get a say in who gets to try next.” She said this so full of conviction that Derek couldn’t even find the words to argue. It just made him chuckle and shake his head with something that almost felt like admiration for this peculiar girl.

Silence settled between them for a moment. Derek wasn’t used to being alone with Lydia and it irritated him. He crossed his arms over his chest to hide his tension. “Since you obviously haven’t come here to predict my death or give me dating advice, are you going to tell me now why you’re really here?”

“Well, for one thing, I bought you _this_.” The redhead presented the plant she was carrying. Some kind of fancy fern. “See it as a _re-birthday_ gift.” She placed it on the table beside her and involuntary her gaze landed on the pile of books lying on the table, bound in old leather that showed their high age. Bevor he could react, she had picked up the first book and read the title in amusement. “ _Pride and Prejudice?_ I didn’t pick you for a Jane Austin fan.”

Derek felt his neck flush with heat again and he cleared his throat. Fully aware that Lydia was stalling, but it felt like bubbles were bursting in his chest with the need to explain and the words just tumbled out of his mouth. “Well, it belonged to my mother. Her favorite. It was a lucky coincidence she left it at the vault the night of the fire. Otherwise it would have been lost as well.” He stepped towards Lydia and carefully took the book from her hands. His fingers brushed hers in the progress. The touch sent a jolt up his spine and made Lydia gasp. He tried to ignore her reaction and flipped through the pages of the book, stopping by the old family picture he used as a bookmark, basically the only picture he had left. “She must have read it a million times and liked to recite her favorite parts. I personally prefer Dickens or London, but when I read this book, it’s easier to remember her voice. The way she laughed.”

He hadn’t mend to get carried away in front of the girl so much. Normally he was better at hiding his emotions, but Lydia’s big eyes were hard to resist and not pour your heart out. He looked down at the picture which showed himself as a boy surrounded by his mother and sisters. A relict of the time before everything - before the fire, before Paige. When he used to be nothing but a carefree kid. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Derek sighed, a wistful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Even if all obstacles were in his favor from now on, would he ever be able to become this boy again? Was there something like a happy end waiting for someone broken like him?

“The little mermaid.” Lydia’s soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Her eyes were filled with nothing but understanding as she looked up at his face. “My grandmother used to read it to me when I was a child and she always called me Ariel … when I read it, it’s like she’s still here with me…” Derek’s chest tightened at hearing the comprehension in her voice, the openness in her words. They’d never shared such an intimate conversation with the exception when he’d kept his promise to Aidan and told Lydia the werewolf had been a good person in the end.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly and tried to remember what they had been talking about before while he put the picture back inside the book and dropped it on the table beside the plant... Right, she brought him a plant – she’d never brought him _anything_ before with the exception of a headache – she wouldn’t bother unless…

“You want something.” Lydia gasped offended and turned away from him, but Derek could tell it was nothing but pretense from the way her heartbeat sped up. “Just spit it out, Lydia.”

Her shoulders set and she turned back to him smiling more brightly than before which made all of his warning bells ring like crazy. “It’s just a small favor. I need access to your family’s vault. I’ve promised Deputy Parrish to help him figure out what he is. I know you said this is out of your experience, but I’ve sort of come to a dead end in my research. And your family has been around here a long time. Maybe there are some useful information at the vault that you just haven’t connected to-”

Derek held up a hand to silence her. “Wait. You promised him?” Lydia nodded.

There was something about the prospect of Lydia digging around the vault that alarmed him. Not because he didn’t trust her. And he doubted the vault held any valuable information on the matter anyway. His family had always been more invested in shape-shifters, that’s why he knew about Kanimas or Wendigos. But other supernatural creatures like Berserkers he only knew due to his personal fondness of mythology. That’s why he’d thought Banshees didn’t exist until he met Lydia.

No, that wasn’t the reason. He was more worried Lydia could actually end up successful in her own search and get herself in trouble she would try to handle on her own. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“But Jordan deserves to know-“

“ _Jordan_?” Derek repeated taken aback with growing annoyance in his voice. He didn’t know why it bothered him that she used the Deputy’s first name, it just did. “You call him that?”

“It’s his name.”

“I just didn’t realize you two were … _friends_. Aren’t you a little too young to-”

“To what?” Lydia interrupted him with her hands placed on her hips, clearly losing her patience. “Call him by his name? Help him? Why is that such a big deal? You’re not making any sense. And for the record, I’ve turned 18 weeks ago. _Thank you_ for remembering and sending me flowers.” Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

“I try to stay away from your birthdays considering what happened last time,” he almost growled, agitated by her emotions running high and his own response to them. He felt the short hair on the back of his neck rise and his muscles tensed.

“Not this again! I thought we were finally past the ‘ _you resurrected my psychotic uncle and I will loath you for that for the rest of my life’_ nonsense! You’re still not getting what happened that night was beyond my control? If I could unmake it, don’t you think I would? Now more than ever. But since we’re talking of past mistakes, remember the night you wanted to kill _me_?!”

Derek flinched. How could he forget all the mistakes he made while being an alpha, making him realize with painful clarity that he shouldn’t have become one in the first place. He shouldn’t have turned Jackson, Erica or Boyd. He shouldn’t have brought them into his war just to proof his worthiness of his family’s legacy. And he certainly shouldn’t have tried to go after an innocent girl, even if it had seem the only way back then to stop the bigger evil. He had tried so hard to do the right thing and solve the mess he’d felt responsible for that he’d forgotten the end did _not_ justify every mean.

Lydia looked apologetic as if she regretted lashing out at him. It wasn’t her fault. Derek knew he was acting ridiculous, but for some reason it didn’t feel right to let her get involved with the deputy whom they barely knew anything about. Parrish seemed like a nice guy, he’d helped them – too nice maybe. _Too perfect_. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t help but be suspicious of the man, even more since finding out he was supernatural.

Derek sighed. “It could be dangerous. _Jordan_ could be dangerous!”

“He seems harmless.”

Derek snorted unimpressed. “So did Jennifer.”

“And Meredith,” Lydia added with a deep sigh. “I guess you have a point. It’s the things you don’t see coming that usually get you killed, but isn’t that more reason to figure out what he is? So that we’re prepared?” Lydia’s argument made a lot of sense of course – if Parrish was a dangerous supernatural creature, the sooner they knew the better. That didn’t make the idea of Lydia snooping around the Deputy any more appealing though.

Derek uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists, sensing there was more that Lydia wasn’t telling him. The real reason behind her desire to help the deputy. “If you want to impress him-”

“That’s not what this is about and I won’t bail out on my promise just because you’re acting like a jerk!” she cut him off furiously, the anger in her voice making her eyes spark. “Coming here was me being polite! I could have asked Malia instead. Technically it’s her family’s vault, too. And she wouldn’t act so difficult! If you want no part in this, that’s fine, but _I_ keep my promises!”

She started to head for the door. When she passed him, Derek’s hand instinctively shot out to grab her arm and stop her from leaving. “I didn’t say that.” His jaw tightened. “But I want to know why this is so important to you.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, not meeting his eyes.

“Try me.”

There was a heavy pause while Lydia collected her thoughts. Her eyes wandered across the loft but didn’t settle on anything in particular. Standing so close, Derek noticed how tired she looked and he wondered again if he should offer her a seat. Or a shoulder to lean on…

He immediately pushed that thought away. No, better not let her get too close. Ever since their encounter the night at the abandoned depot he’d realized how easily the girl managed to get under his skin and he’d done his best to not let it happen again.

“It’s not really … about him, it’s about me,” Lydia started to explain. “After Peter attacked me … I didn’t have anyone to talk to. No one gave me the answers I needed. For months I didn’t know what was happening to me, if I was losing my mind and there’s still so much I don’t understand about my abilities. I know Scott, Stiles, Allison and even you - you all wanted to protect me by keeping me in the dark for so long, but the uncertainty of not knowing anything was so much worse than the truth.”

Derek felt a lump build in his throat. Of course they had tried to keep her out of all the craziness and when he’d learned about her immunity to Peter's bite, he'd thought it would be her second chance of a normal life. Even more reason he had to keep his distance from her with him being a walking danger magnet. He should have known it never worked like that with girls like Lydia. She was too smart - _smart like Paige_ \- to not figure things out even on her own and get involved. All the while they missed to notice what their secrecy had done to her until it was too late.

“You don’t really understand this because you’re a born werewolf,” Lydia continued as she turned her face to look at him. “You have always known what you are. And you had people being there for you and explain what’s happening to you. You don’t know what it’s like to have your world turned upside down with no one being there. What it’s like to not know what you are, only that you are _not_ human. I want to help Jordan because I’ve been there myself and I know what he must be going through right now, okay?”

Derek stared at her.

She was wrong. As strange as it seemed, he understood her reason perfectly. The last couple of weeks, ever since his brief renaissance as a teenager, he hadn’t felt like himself. He had felt his powers drain from his body and turn human, something he’d never experienced before. It was similar to what Lydia had been going through with the only difference that her powers had been growing. But the uncertainty of not knowing what was happening and how it would all end had been the same and it had scared Derek more than he liked to admit.

That’s why he understood why Lydia insisted on helping the deputy. Didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. But he guessed if he couldn’t talk her out of her quest – and judging from the look of determination on her face he wouldn’t be able to - at least he could make sure she would be safe.

“Alright. I have nothing else to do anyway. I’ll drive.”

Lydia looked a little surprised by his offer, but quickly regained her composure. “Thank you. Jordan will be-“

He cut her off immediately, “I’m not doing this for Parrish.”

He stopped there, even though there was more sitting on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say. The desire to explain to her why his urge to help her felt so prominent now. He could have told her that his last thoughts before _‘dying’_ had basically been about her. Or that his heart had stopped for a moment when he’d found her drenched on his doorstep. Or that he remembered the feel of her touch and warmth of her fingers when she had held his hand at the vet station despite having been half-unconscious.

He understood her and he owed her and wanted to make sure she was alright. That was all.

But he didn’t tell her any of that.

Lydia smirked. “Well, I guess you can let go of me then.”

Derek realized a little embarrassed he was still holding her arm, the touch feeling far too intimate and unforeseeable comfortable for such an innocent gesture. Immediately he dropped his hand and stepped back to get his jacket and car keys.

He didn’t look at Lydia as he followed her outside.

 

 


	2. Kindred spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone reading, commenting and liking the story so far. Here's the 2nd chapter which I hope you will enjoy as well. Again I apologize for any mistakes.

Since Lydia had taken a cab to the loft, they took Derek’s car to drive to school. It was weekend, so they didn’t have to worry about running into teachers or students. Only the new janitor who could be bribed if necessary - or more likely threatened by Derek.

Even though the ride to school was short, Lydia was more anxious about it than the visit to the loft. Being cramped together with Derek in the car, sitting so close that they were both aware of the other’s every movement. The atmosphere set her nerves on edge. It was awkward as well as strangely exciting to be this close to the grumpy werewolf. She wondered if Derek noticed any of this. If he paid attention to her tension or smelt her nervousness. If her proximity made his skin crawl just the same and if he was just better at hiding it.

His stoic expression was impossible to read while he kept his focus on the road, like he tried his best to _not_ acknowledge her presence, but his tight grip on the steering wheel and the tense set of his shoulders gave him away. Maybe he was affected by this unusual arrangement as well. Or he still mistrusted her and thought she was luring him into a trap…

 _Ridiculous._ But the thought increased Lydia’s annoyance with his demeanor and she desperately searched her mind for something to talk about. She didn’t know Derek well enough to guess what he would like to talk about – _if_ he wanted to talk at all. She’d caught glimpses of his intelligence, vulnerability and selflessness, but he didn’t seem much of a conversationalist and he didn’t seem to have any hobbies either she could ask him about - except getting tortured and almost killed every few weeks.

If he didn’t want to talk, couldn’t he turn on the radio at least? Anything to fill the insufferable silence?

She couldn’t take it any longer and said the first thing that came to her mind: “How’s Cora?” His sister seemed a safe enough subject to start a conversation with. Derek glanced at her sideways with surprise written on his face. Whether because he didn’t expect her to talk or for bringing up Cora, Lydia couldn’t tell.

“She’s fine.” He answered shortly and turned his attention on the road again. There was something in his voice that flared her curiosity. She waited for him to say more and sighed inwardly when it became obvious that wasn’t going to happen. Not much of a talker indeed.

“Why didn’t you stay with her in South America?” she pressed on and noticed his brows twitching and his grip tightening further on the steering wheel.

“I had some unfinished business here.”

“Like getting tortured and almost killed while being constantly reminded of everything you’ve lost in this town?” Lydia blurted out. She watched Derek closely as she waited for his reply. A long tension-filled minute passed without Derek reacting, until she wasn’t sure he would answer at all or just keep on ignoring her.

“It’s not this town, it’s me,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’m a danger magnet. I get people hurt. Cora build herself a good life down there before she came back to Beacon Hills. One I’m not part of. She’s better off without me dragging her back into danger.”

Lydia sank back into her seat, feeling slightly dazed by his honesty. It couldn’t be easy for him to share this with anyone and for some reason it made her feel … _special_ in an unsuspected way he was willing to share it with her. “You’re still her big brother,” she tried to comfort him.

“Which is why it’s my obligation to keep her safe. Even if it means staying away from her.”

Lydia nodded, being reminded not for the first time how much Derek was willing to sacrifice to protect the people he cared about. How big his heart was despite his aloof manner.

Once more silence settled between them like a heavy blanket and Lydia turned her head to look out the window. They had just entered the main street and were only a few minutes away from the school. She didn’t want to jeopardize his help by annoying him and asking too many questions. Surprisingly it was Derek who interrupted the silence next.

“Do you have a theory what Parrish could be?”

“Well, I looked through the copy of the Argent’s bestiary, but no luck there. I noticed there are actually some pages missing in it. I couldn’t get in touch with Mr. Argent or Deaton and did some research about supernatural beings connected to fire on the internet, though I’m not sure how reliable the sources are. The most likely explanation seems that he’s a phoenix.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and glanced at her skeptically. “A phoenix? Like the bird in the legend, seriously?”

“Hey, you are a werewolf, I am a banshee. It’s not that hard to believe a phoenix could exist as well. And it would explain his impressive survival of being set on fire without any injuries.”

Derek shook his head, clearly not believing her theory. Well, it was just a theory, but they had to start somewhere, didn’t they?

Right on cue they reached the school and entered the parking lot.

“Or maybe he’s a dragon,” Derek suggested with thick amusement covering his voice. Was he trying to mock her?

Lydia rolled her eyes. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. There are no dragons!” she said matter-of-factly in her own special tone that wouldn’t allow any argument.

Derek flashed his teeth at her while he parked the SUV and cut the engine. Then he jumped out of the car, walked around the hood and held the door open for Lydia, before she had even unbuckled her seatbelt. His sudden display of chivalry threw her off just as much as the grin still resting on his face. She’d never seen him smile like that before and was astonished at how much it suited him and heightened his physical attractiveness even further if that was even possible.

“How can you be so sure that there are no dragons?” he wanted to know.

Because of the size of the car Lydia couldn’t climb out of it as gracefully as she would have liked and Derek was standing so close that their bodies were only inches apart. When she straightened up she practically came face to face with his broad chest. Even in heels she barely reached his shoulders and her line of sight was drawn straight to the small fuzz of dark chest hair peeking out of the collar of his shirt. She craned her neck to meet his eyes. He didn’t seem fazed by their unusual proximity which made her question Derek’s definition of personal space.

“Because … it’s just crazy!” was her reply. Not as witty as she hoped due to her annoyance of his cocky attitude and her own incapability of not getting distracted by the chest hair. He _definitely_ got more hairy since Mexico!!!

“Not half as crazy as your glorifying phoenix theory,” he snapped back and narrowed his eyes. His mood changed so quickly that she barely had time to react. He slammed the door of the car shut with so much force, that it made Lydia jump on the spot. Then he turned around and stalked towards the hidden entrance of the vault without waiting for her to catch up. Obviously his chivalry had reached its limit…

Lydia frowned as she followed him, wondering about his words and quickly shifting attitude, but she was certain she didn’t glorify _anything_.

Derek opened the secret door with his claws and they stepped down into vault that looked like a bunker crossed with a provisory library. The shelves were full of boxes, bins, books and loose papers as well as talismans and other occult objects. He didn’t leave the door open so that nobody would stumble upon the entry that wasn’t supposed to know about it. But as soon as the heavy door was shut and they were surrounded by nothing but concrete walls, Lydia felt slightly panic. She shivered which didn’t get past Derek’s watchful eyes.

“Are you okay?” he wanted to know.

She didn’t want to think about the last time she’d been trapped in a room, in the basement of the _Reichen House_ , tormented by the murderer of her grandmother. She tried to keep those memories out of her head. “I’m fine, I just don’t like closed spaces. Feels like being trapped in a grave,” she admitted softly.

Derek nodded in understanding. “Me neither.” She figured it was harder for a wolf to be surrounded by walls than for her. Like an animal trapped in a cage. Probably even more since being buried alive.

Derek turned around to examine the vault. Lydia didn’t really know where to start or what to look for. She doubted they would be lucky enough to stumble upon a folder saying ‘all the answers you want right here’. The vault seemed in desperate need of an inventory. Derek probably wasn’t even aware of all the treasures hidden down here due to the disorder.

She felt a little dizzy, not because of the vault but the realization that she just managed to make Derek open up to her again. First she discovered he’s a literature guy sharing stories about his mother and now this. She had learned more about him on one day than the whole last year. Who knew how much she would know about him by the end of the week…

The thought intrigued her and she kept glancing at Derek across the vault as subtle as possible, debating with herself whether she should press on or let the subject drop. Or should she take the chance and ask about the other thing that had been on her mind for a while now? He seemed more relaxed and accessible surrounded by his family’s belongings, but she still worried he would kick her out if she bothered him too much with her questions. On the other hand, when would she get another chance to ask with how much he avoided her?

It was now or never.

She didn’t realize she had been staring at Derek the whole time until he caught her glance over his shoulder. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Lydia?” His voice made her shiver. She didn’t know how or why, but the way he spoke her name was different from everyone else. Maybe because he barely talked to her and even less used her name, that whenever he actually did, it felt like hearing it for the first time.

“What?” she asked coyly.

“Have you found something?” he asked while motioning with his hand in front of his face. “You’ve been staring at me with this look on your face.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing.” Lydia waved him off and was about to turn away, when Derek’s voice made her freeze in her movement.

“You’re lying. I can read your heartbeat like a polygraph, remember?”

Lydia’s eyes widened in embarrassment. She could feel her face heat up as she fumbled for a witty reply. “Has no one ever told you it’s rude to listen to other people’s heartbeat without their permission? Maybe my heartbeat is not yours to listen to!” she snapped back, trying to cover her embarrassment under a thick layer of sass. There were only few people who managed to humble Lydia, but leave it to Derek Hale to reduce her from a confident genius to an uncertain mess with just one move of his eyebrow.

She turned away from him to regain her composure, but still sensed his questioning gaze on her back. Reluctantly she added: “If you really need to know, I was thinking about the last time I was down here. The night you turned back into your old self. Do you remember anything of your reprise as a teenager?”

“Hardly. It’s very blurry. As if my mind can’t decide if it happened a few weeks or years ago.” Lydia hummed in understanding and was about to return to her own search when his voice stopped her. “Why do you ask? Is there something I _should_ remember?”

She stared back at him.

That was what she wanted to know. If he remembered her taking care of him the night at the vet station. Would that change anything between them? Would he be more welcoming? But it seemed like he didn’t remember, probably wouldn’t even believe her if she told him about it, so it didn’t matter.

She shook her head with a fake smile. “Not at all.”

Derek narrowed his eyes as if he didn’t really believe her, probably listening to her heartbeat again to confirm his suspicion, and she quickly changed the subject before he could delve on it further. “But I figured out how Kate was able to turn you into a teenager.”

“Voodoo magic?” Derek suggested with a dry laugh.

“More like shapeshifter magic. She basically used your enhanced self-regeneration and shapeshifting ability against you. Remember how you told Jackson that he’d become a kanima because the shape you take can reflect the mind and that it can be affected by unfinished business in the past?”

Derek snorted and crossed his arms above his chest. “I may have had some unfinished business with Kate, but nothing to turn me into a teenager again.”

“No, but it shows how much your state of mind actually influences your shapeshifting ability. She used the wolfsbane in the tomb to weaken you, so she could steal your adult memories. Without them your mind believed you were still a teenager and your body reflected your state of mind by adapting your shape. Obviously only works temporarily, but that’s all Kate wanted anyway. A little time to gain your trust.”

Derek watched her with something like admiration in his expression. “You understand the nature of shapeshifters very good.”

Was that compliment? From Derek Hale?

Lydia felt a boost of delight running through her system and a smile tugging at her lips. She shrugged and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I am very smart and you can’t date two shapeshifters without catching up on a few things.”

“No, it's more than that. You breathe knowledge like others breathe air. It’s good that you don’t try to hide your real intelligence anymore for the sake of other people.”

Lydia went rigid. She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn’t. He was right – far too long she’d been trying to please everyone elses expectations – the perfect daughter, the perfect girlfriend – until she had almost disappeared underneath the shallow facade like Jackson had disappeared underneath the scaly derma of the kanima. It hadn’t been until she’d been pulled into the supernatural world and discovered her own supernatural heritage that she’d fully grown into her own person. She just wouldn’t have thought Derek noticed her own _‘evolvement’_.

She studied him thoughtfully. “For someone who barely talks to me you seem to know me pretty good.”

Derek shrugged and strolled further into the room, rummaging through boxes on different shelves. “I pay attention,” he told her over his shoulder.

They continued their search without saying a word for a while and Lydia was starting to feel quite comfortable in Derek’s quiet company. He was like a shadow hovering in her peripheral sight, but not in a distressing way. More like something you expected to be there. Something that made you feel _safe_.

Her train of thought brought another realization and she started to chuckle. The soft noise drew Derek’s attention back in her direction. “Something’s funny?” he wanted to know.

“I just realized this is a record. It’s the longest time you’ve managed to stay in my company. Usually you can’t get away fast enough just at the mention of my name.”

He frowned. “That is not true.”

“Oh come on, Derek.” She gave him a meaningful look. “You want to tell me you never avoided me?” His lips shut in a thin line and his silence was answer enough for Lydia to know she was right. He had been avoiding her. She felt a sting in her chest though she didn’t know why it should bother her if he’d avoided her or not. And she had no right to be mad about it since she wasn’t any different, only seeking him out when it was a life or death situation. Still her ego was bruised in a way that made her want to jab at him. “But it’s fine. Guys like you often get intimidated by intelligent confident women like me.”

“Guys like … okay, for the record I was _never_ intimidated by you!” Derek insisted. Lydia tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t stop the smirk spreading across her face which the werewolf receipted with a moping grunt. Did she just strike a nerve?

Derek narrowed his eyes and crossed the vault to stand right next to her, once more invading her personal space by reaching across her shelf. There was no doubt he did it to get back at her for making fun of him and she tried her best to ignore his proximity even though it was getting difficult to focus on her search with their arms almost brushing against each other.

“Hey! Stick to the upper shelves that I can’t reach,” she commanded with fake annoyance and pushed his arm out of her way, secretly enjoying the opportunity to boss the huge werewolf around. Derek rolled his eyes, but followed her order without complaining.

She still wasn’t sure what she was looking for – as far as she knew they could have been on the wrong track and the deputy was nothing but another aberration of a shapeshifter. But the longer she was in the vault the more she got the feeling that _something_ was there waiting to be found. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t … _alone_. There was another presence surrounding her, faint but powerful enough to give her goose bumps. She felt like being watched by invisible eyes, led by invisible hands.

 _Ghosts_ , it crossed her mind. The vault was full of ghosts. Maybe the dead Hales. Were they trying to tell her something? Point her in the right direction?

The next shelf was full of books, most of them very old and written in strange languages that went beyond her ability to translate archaic Latin. Maybe Derek knew these languages - he was more literate than people gave him credit for, most of them only saw his muscles just like they only saw her pretty face but not her brain. Looking at the old books made her wonder about the origins of werewolves and their long history walking among people. According to the Argents the werewolves descended of _Lycaon_ who’d been turned into a wolf by the old gods as punishment, but she wasn’t sure if that was really true or just a myth. She wanted to ask Derek about it…

She realized stunned that she wanted to ask him a lot of things.

About himself and his family. About his father nobody seemed to know anything about. He wasn’t in the picture she’d seen at the loft. Did Derek even know him or die Talia Hale keep his identity secret from her son the way she had kept Malia secret from Peter? Or did his father abandon his family the same way Lydia’s had after the divorce - with a new job and a new family in a new town…

There was this strange feeling growing inside her that given the opportunity she could become good friends with the not-so-grumpy werewolf. They seemed to have more in common than she thought with similar intellect and interests. One could almost believe they were kindred spirits. Allison had never shared Lydia’s thirst for knowledge and Stiles wasn’t able to keep up with the large variety of her interests which made her long for someone more mature to talk to. Someone more on the same level. And somehow she was starting to believe that Derek could be this person…

With her focus still on the man beside her, Lydia reached absently into the next box on the shelf and cried out as something sharp pierced her skin…

Suddenly she wasn’t at the vault anymore – not exactly. It still looked like the vault but covered in ice and snow. Snowflakes were frozen in midair as if time was standing still and thick mist was crawling slowly across the floor. The interior of the vault was changed as well. In the middle of it a huge tree trunk rose out of the floor with its thick roots spreading everywhere. It was the _Nematon_ – Lydia’s never seen the magic tree face to face, but she had done enough drawings of it to know it was the same tree. The whole scenery felt strangely familiarity.

“ _Bardo_ ,” Lydia whispered at the startling realization that she was once more captured in the land between the dead and the living. Her breath crystalized in the cold air making her shiver, but not just because of the low temperature. It was an illusion as it felt much too real.

A female figure appeared from behind one of the frozen shelves, dressed all in white almost invisible against the snow covered walls if it weren’t for the dark hair. Lydia’s heart stopped for a moment when she recognized the face…

_Allison._

She wanted to run to her friend and hug her, but she feared if she touched the other girl, she would vanish again. Allison’s eyes were bleak, her expression blank. She held a shiny object in the palm of her hands outstretched before her. One of her old arrowheads made of silver she had used to destroy the Oni the same night she was killed. She presented it like she wanted Lydia to take it.

“I don’t know what this means,” she cried out. The same moment she spoke the arrow started to melt away in Allison’s hands to leave nothing but pure silver liquid dripping down her hands while turning into a pool of dark red by her feet. _Blood_. “I don’t understand, Allison, please!” Lydia repeated in desperate need to understand what her dead friend was trying to tell her.

The scenery melted away before her eyes just like the arrow did and when she blinked the vault was back to normal with Allison gone, along with the tree trunk and the ice. Though the cold still lingered on her skin.

Derek was close by her side, holding her on her feet, his face twisted into a deeply worried frown. “Lydia?” He called her name repeatedly while he cupped her face gently in his hand to get her to focus. “What happened?”

Lydia couldn’t speak. Her hand was hurting and when she looked at it, she noticed a long cut across her palm. Blood dripped from her fingers as red as the blood in her vision. Derek took her hand in his palm and held it up to examine the cut. The touch sent a jolt through her system the same way when he’d touched her arm at the loft. She tried to ignore the fluttering feeling the contact left in her stomach and watched Derek use his shirt to clean the blood away very carefully as well as she tried not to ignore how the action exposed his chiseled abs and focus on her injured hand.

“You don’t have to that,“ she said when she regained her voice, staring at the red strains of blood left on the dark fabric. Her voice was weak, shaken from her vision, from seeing Allison.

“It’s okay,” Derek replied with a shrug like it was no big deal and he didn’t mind the blood on his shirt. Probably because he was used to having blood, most of the time his own, on his clothes. The pain started to flow from her body while thick dark veins pulsated over the skin of Derek’s forearm. He was using his ability to take away her pain.

With her other hand Lydia reached into the box where she cut herself and discovered a small arrowhead similar to the one she saw in her vision. The Argent crest was engraved into the shiny metal, but this arrow looked older than the one in her vision, almost like a relic of another time.

Derek paused and frowned as his eyes landed on the silver object she twirled between her fingers to take a look at it from all sides. “What’s _that_ doing there? Lydia, tell me what happened!” he demanded.

“Allison,” she mumbled. The pain in her hand had faded away completely thanks to Derek, but the cut was still bleeding, so he kept pressing his shirt against it. “I saw her,” Lydia continued. “She tried to tell me something. I think she tried to tell me that we could find the answers we’re looking for with her family.”

The werewolf shook his head. “I don’t think that Chris Argent knows anything - “

“No, not him,” Lydia cut him off, remembering the way the silver turned into blood in Allison’s hands. She looked Derek straight in the eyes. “But he’s not the only Argent out there.”

 


	3. Knowledge is power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's already chapter 3 (i think this is the longest), means only 3 chapters left to come. I hope you're still enjoying the story. Again thank you so much for reading and commenting :)

The next day Lydia got the address they needed from Scott, but only under the promise she wouldn’t visit without werewolf backup - she had Derek by her side, so that wouldn’t be a problem. The building was located a few miles outside of Beacon Hills – not as far away as Lydia would have imagined – in a town so small she doubted you would be able to find it on the landscape if you didn’t already know it was there. A good hideaway since no one ever expected their enemy to hide right on their front porch.

They sat in the SUV parked in front of the building for a while without speaking. Derek’s reluctance to leave the car was plain to see as he stared straight ahead through the windshield with a stoic expression and narrowed eyes.

Lydia could hardly imagine what it was like for him, having to see the person again who had done so many horrible things to him and everyone else. There was no other person Lydia detested so much, maybe with the exception of the her grandmother’s murderer or Peter Hale. Thinking about Derek’s uncle made her stomach cramp and her mind remember all the times they had to go to him for help. How she had put on a brave face every time they met and refused to let him keep having power over her by inspiring fear inside of her.

“You don’t have to come inside with me,” Lydia assured him and offered a sympathetic smile that wouldn’t meet her eyes. She felt too tense and her fingers fidgeted nervously with the bandage wrapped around her injured hand. The cut across her palm still hurt, but she had more important things on her mind.

Derek’s head barely turned in her direction as she spoke. His eyes glued on the double door entrance of the building, not leaving it out of his sight for one second as if he expected the old hunter they were about to visit could storm through the door any moment. His lips were pressed into a thin line. “You think I will let you go in there alone?”

“Scott said he’s very weak,” Lydia tried to argue. “I can handle him. I’m not as fragile as everybody thinks I am. And I have pepper spray in my bag.”

“Maybe you should have brought a gun instead,” Derek mused, his eyes darkening.

“And end up shooting my own foot? No thanks. I could have borrowed Stiles’ baseball bat though. I did a good job with one of those against that Berserker.”

Derek quirked an eyebrow as he turned to look at her, his facial expression less tense. “Wasn’t it Sheriff Stilinski who killed it and saved you?”

“True, but I hit it a few times. Very hard.”

“And that was very brave of you,” Derek said. “Very brave and very _stupid_. I would have expected this level of recklessness from Stiles, but you’re smarter.”

“I wanted to help my friends,” Lydia replied defensive and added a little softer, “I wanted to help you.”

Derek studied her face for a moment, then he nodded towards her bandaged hand. “Does the cut still hurt? Do you want me to - ?”

“Oh no, thanks, it’s not that bad,” she assured him with a smile. Derek gave another short nod in her direction.

“I’m still not letting you be alone with that man!” he said with kindled determination in his voice as he got out of the car. Lydia followed him, her bag with the pepper spray strapped over her shoulder. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Despite her brave words she really didn’t want to face the ex-hunter alone and was relieved about Derek’s insistence to go with her.

She felt safer in his company.

They found Gerard Argent in a small cheap looking room without much furniture or personal belongings. A cold chill ran down Lydia’s spine when her gaze landed on the old hunter. He sat crooked in a wheelchair. His skin was very pale and his cheeks were haggard. He looked barely a shadow of the cold-blooded hunter he used to be with the stench of death surrounding him. Thinner and much older than when Lydia had seen him the last time. He looked so bad that it left her wondering how he was able to still be alive. Whether his state was the aftermath of the mountain ash lingering in his system or the cancer back eating his body, made no difference for her. She felt no pity for the man who hadn’t shied away to manipulate his own granddaughter into his personal weapon.

Lydia felt intense rage just thinking about what Gerard had done to Allison. It had to be even worse for Derek to stand in front of the man responsible for the fire that killed his family. Kate might have lit the match, but Gerard had been the puppeteer behind the curtain pulling the strings.

The werewolf looked very tense beside her. His jaw was set and his hands were clenched into tight fists. He seemed to try to keep his emotions in check as best as he could – all the pain and rage caused by the man before him – but the storm brewing under his skin was unmistakable to see like would jump forward any minute to rip Gerard’s throat out.

Lydia wanted to reach for his hand to calm him a little and squeeze it to reassure him that he wasn’t alone in this, but she held herself back, unsure how Derek would react to her kindness. Sure, if she were a certain mercenary, he would probably appreciate the gesture, though Lydia didn’t imagine Braeden as the sensitive, cuddling type.

When they entered the room, Gerard looked up. His surprised expression quickly changed into a taunting smile that made it clear he might look like a weak old man, but his mind was still sharp and calculating.

“Now look who we have here,” he said. His voice sounded so croaky as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. He probably didn’t get many visitors to have conversations with. “Derek Hale. The last person I would have expected to visit me. Have you come to kill me at last?”

“Give me a reason and I will!” Derek threatened between clenched teeth. The strain in his voice palpable.

“Fair enough. Then you have come to gloat?” The ex-hunter turned his attention to Lydia with raised eyebrows. “And you brought company. I’m sorry, young lady, your face seems familiar, but I can’t recall your name. Aren’t you friends with Allison?”

Lydia shuddered, but tried to not let it show. The man’s focus made her uncomfortable and brought up more unpleasant memories of all the horrible things he’d done to her friends … and god only knew what he had done all the years before he came into town. How many innocent people he tortured and killed on behalf of the hunters’ oath _‘We hunt those who hunt us’_ , while in truth he’d been spreading nothing but death and destruction.

“That’s not important,” Derek chipped in and stepped forward to position his body half in front of Lydia. Gerard narrowed his eyes which made it obvious he didn’t miss Derek’s protective stance. “It only matters that we have a question that you will answer!”

“Is that so?” the old man asked with challenge in his voice, but then he held up his hands as a peace offering. He gave in much too easily for Lydia’s taste. “But since you’ve come all the way out here, it’s only polite to let you ask your question.”

Derek gave Lydia a nod and she started to tell Gerard everything about Parrish. How he survived being burned alive without any injuries. That his name was part of the dead pool which made them assume he was supernatural and that they tried to figure out what he could be. “Do you have any idea what he could be?” she asked when she was finished with her report.

Gerard hummed thoughtfully. “I do.” He rubbed his knaggy, shaky hands together. “But you know what they say - _knowledge is power_.”

Lydia snorted in annoyance. _Now_ she knew why he had agreed to listen to them so quickly. Of course he wouldn’t share his knowledge out of good will and had his own hidden agenda. This also made it easy to assume Gerard had taken the missing pages from the bestiary. Probably as leverage, to make sure his expertise would be needed.

“And all knowledge comes with a price.” Lydia narrowed her eyes at the hunter who shrugged while trying to look as innocent as possible. She didn’t buy his act for one second, neither did Derek.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“Oh not much, I’ve become very frugal as you can see. I don’t even have a TV. I barely get visitors. I’m just thirsting for some _entertainment_.” Lydia didn’t like where this was going and judging Derek’s face he didn’t either. Gerard on the other hand seemed to enjoy the situation a lot. He tipped one slender finger against his chin. „Let me think for a moment what you could give me in return for my knowledge. How about … a kiss?“ the man suggested. His gaze landed on Derek with a sardonic gleam.

Lydia’s eyes widened with disbelief as she tried to process his words. „You want Derek to kiss you?” she shrieked in disgust. He couldn’t be serious! He must have clearly lost his mind! Derek would bite his head off! The werewolf looked just as unbelieving and grossed out by the idea as she did.

Gerard chuckled, amused by their reactions. „I think my information is valuable enough for a little reward, but I never said I want Derek to kiss _me_ ,“ he pointed out, looking directly at Lydia now. She paled as the realization of Gerard’s words hit her full-force.

“You want him to kiss _ME_?” She didn’t know how to react. The whole thing seemed so grotesque, she could barely take it seriously. Of all the things Gerard could ask as reward he chose a kiss?

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it, then I know you’re lying.”

“That is not the point!” Lydia blurted out, before her mouth snapped shut. She peeked at the werewolf beside her who was too busy glaring at Gerard with bared teeth to notice her slip of tongue.

Of course she’d thought about it! She noticed Derek’s attractiveness since the first time she laid eyes on him. He also had the intelligence, complicated personality and bad boy attitude that made her knees weak. There was no denying how much he fitted her taste in men and how much of a temptation he posed. She never considered him a romantic prospect with him avoiding her constantly, but that didn’t mean she never thought about him on some lonely nights, wondering if he was just as lonely in his big empty loft…

Involuntary memories of her night visit to the loft appeared in her head, of Derek in nothing but a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips and giving her a perfect view of his well-defined upper body. Once you’ve seen the man naked, you didn’t get that image out of your head again.

“But we’re not here to satisfy your creepy voyeuristic desires!” Lydia clarified, quickly forcing any inappropriate thoughts from her mind.

“Then I won’t talk.”

“I can make you talk!” Derek growled in a low, menacing voice. He looked lethal with his eyes flashing blue and his claws extended. He seemed only one step away from shifting. Gerard didn’t seem impressed or even worried. It was obvious he was on his last breath with nothing left to lose. No threat, no physical harm would get him to talk.

“By torturing me?” The old man chuckled, then started to cough violently. Black blood sprinkled his lips which he wiped away with the back of his hand. “Don’t bother. I’m already closer to dying than living and there’s nothing you can do to make it worse.” As much as Lydia detested the manipulative man in the wheelchair, it wasn’t hard to see he wouldn’t help them unless he got what he wanted and no threats would change that.

_Was the information worth it?_

Lydia chewed on the inside of her cheek as she tried to make a decision. She glanced at Derek again. He was ready to rip Gerard to pieces to get answers and Lydia realized for Derek’s sake she couldn’t let that happen. He was too much of a good person that she wanted him to get his hands dirty, no matter how much the old man deserved to die for his crimes. She felt responsible for dragging the werewolf into this situation, but she couldn’t leave without getting an answer either – not with Allison’s ghost sending her here and the importance of figuring out if Parrish could be a threat … she just didn’t want to lose more people over their lack of preparation.

_Would it really be that bad?_

“It’s just a kiss,” she mumbled more to herself as she tried to sort out her thoughts, though it felt like she already made her decision. But what about Derek?

His head snapped in her direction and he stared at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You can’t possibly consider-“

“It won’t mean anything,” Lydia stressed as she turned to face him head-on. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them willing to give in, until Derek’s eyes softened a little.

“We don’t have to do this, Lydia,” he tried to reason with her. “We’ll find answers somewhere else.”

“It’s just a kiss,” she repeated, holding his gaze with insistence. _Just a kiss_ … and she’d kissed a lot of guys for less reason, why should Derek Hale be any different?

Derek narrowed his eyes. New anger twisted his features, though she wasn’t sure if his rage was directed at Gerard for making this crazy demand in the first place or herself for being willing to go along with it. She noticed how his broad shoulders set and his muscles tensed. As if he prepared for war. Or the decision he just made.

“And it won’t mean anything”, he pressed out eventually, echoing her own words, but hearing them from Derek in such a dull tone left a hollow feeling in her chest. Probably just her wounded pride that couldn’t accept that despite the creepy circumstances not even one little part of Derek desired to kiss her. She also feared she might just have jeopardized their new established connection between them.

As Derek moved closer, his expression withdrawn, Lydia’s heart started to pound faster and her lips parted slightly, her mind transfixed by his pervasive eyes. Their usually pale green colors was framed by a faint trace of blue, showing how close his wolf was lurking under the surface even in his human appearance.

When he stood right in front of her, so close their bodies almost touched, Derek hesitated a moment like he wanted to give her one last chance to change her mind, but Lydia stuck to her decision and didn’t move. His eyes were unreadable as they bore into hers, making her wonder what he might read in her own. Her blood was rushing in her ears, drowning out every other sound but her pounding heart.

Slowly Derek dipped his head and instinctively Lydia craned her neck to meet him. His nose grazed her cheek as his mouth hovered inches above hers. The disturbing thought of Gerard watching them the whole time nibbled at the back of her mind, but only until Derek closed the last bit of distance between them.

His lips brushed hers lightly at first like a careful experiment, before they settled on her mouth more firmly. Lydia couldn’t stop her eyes from fluttering shut at the feeling of having Derek kiss her. His short beard felt much softer than expected with the stumbles caressing her skin in unfamiliar sensual way – usually she preferred clean-shaven, but in this moment she couldn’t remember why. The warm pressure of Derek’s mouth sent a jolt of desire through her body. Something like a chain reaction was building inside her and she started to feel a little lightheaded.

_She felt like falling._

To say Derek was a good kisser would have been an understatement and Lydia wasn’t even sure he was doing his best given the circumstances, but it was enough to make her knees go weak and crave for more. More of his warmth. More of his taste. She wanted to melt against his body, feel the hard muscles work against her. It would have been so easy to get lost in the moment, to get lost in the kiss…

_So easy and so dangerous._

As if sensing the same danger of getting carried away too much, Derek stopped the kiss and pulled back. Lydia’s eyes opened again and she noticed immediately that the werewolf wasn’t looking at her. He was glaring daggers at Gerard who looked … alarmingly _satisfied_ and seemed to have gotten out of the little display what he’d aimed for. Lydia doubted it was just the twisted joy of a sick old man.

Derek stepped forward, clearly annoyed with Gerard’s amused expression. “Happy now?” he ground out between clenched teeth, his voice very rough.

“Probably not half as much as you two.”

“Tell. Us. Now!” Derek growled threateningly.

“Of course, deal’s a deal. I’m just surprised you didn’t figure it out on your own. It’s quite obvious. But then you’ve never been the smartest, Derek. My guess is … the deputy’s a Jinni.”

 _A Jinni?_ That couldn’t be right, could it? Of course Lydia read about them when she did her own research, but as someone who grew up with the silly Disney version she didn’t consider them to actually exist.

“A Jinni, like with the lantern and granting wishes?” she asked.

“Oh, they are far more than that,” Gerard explained, “More like demonic spirits made of smokeless fire.”

 _Smokeless fire_ – it would explain the fire incident, but _demonic_? Parrish didn’t seem demonic ... he seemed like a decent person … but so did Jennifer Blake before she turned out a murderous druid, hadn’t that been Derek’s words at the loft yesterday? And they already encountered a demonic spirit, the Nogitsune, so the idea didn’t seem that far off.

“Does this mean he’s evil?” Lydia wanted to know.

“Evil is a subjective construct of mankind. Are Jinn powerful? Yes. Dangerous? Absolutely. There are different ranks among them. Some you would call good, some evil, and some are neither and stick to their own business. Some have shapeshifting abilities and can turn into humans or animals. Some simply possess human bodies when they feel like it just like other dark spirits do. The question that remains is what kind of Jinni is your little deputy?”

“That’s it? That’s all?” Derek snarled, obviously not satisfied with Gerard’s answer. Lydia expected more as well, considering that they had to kiss to get the information… not that there was anything to complain about the kiss itself, but that was secondary.

The man shrugged. “Why? Wasn’t the kiss worth it?” he mocked. “Well, if you want more, here’s a little bonus for you, Derek – I can tell you who your father is. I bet your lovely mother never bothered to share this information with you.”

Derek’s father?

Lydia frowned in confusion, wondering once more about the family picture she’d seen at the loft. Could the old man really know something or was this just another ploy to torment Derek?

“You know nothing! You’re just making this up!” the werewolf snarled while he took deep breaths in order to stay calm. It didn’t seem to help much with his body starting to shake more and more violently with every breath. Like he was only holding on to a very thin thread connected to his humanity that was about to rip…

“But I do. I’ve known it since the day I’ve seen your face for the first time. You may look like your mother, but your eyes, _oh your eyes_ are your father’s. I must know, after all I’m the one who put arrows into them! Makes me wonder if Deucalion knew all along that you’re his son when he went after you or if he simply didn’t care. Just like he didn’t care about your sister.” Gerard’s smile contorted to a wolf-like grin, making him look more beastlike than the actual werewolf in the room. “A mother full of secrets. A father torturing his children. An uncle ripping his niece apart for power. And you think my family is the one messed up!”

That was enough to make Derek snap.

With a thunderous growl his face started to twist into his wolf features, sharp fangs appearing between his lips. He was preparing to pounce, but Lydia held him back before he could attack the man in the wheelchair. She wasn’t sure how she was able to restrain the much bigger and much stronger werewolf, but somehow she managed. Firmly she pressed a hand on his chest to calm him down while seeking out Derek’s flashing blue eyes. She could feel his heart slamming wildly against his ribcage underneath her touch, echoing through her own body from head to toe.

“Don’t. He’s not worth it.” She glared at Gerard over her shoulder. The smile had faded from his lips and he looked almost disappointed - like he’d wanted Derek to kill him and put him out of his misery. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she spat out, “Your granddaughter is dead. Your daughter is a psychotic bitch. Your son is hunting her. There is nothing left of your once so mighty legacy. And you will spend your last days rotting away in this room, in this wheelchair. You have lost. You’re nothing but a pathetic crazy old man and soon you will be nothing but an unpleasant memory.”

Satisfied by seeing the color drain from Gerard’s face, Lydia grabbed Derek’s hand and dragged him out of the room behind her. She didn’t let go of him until they were standing in the parking lot and even then Derek seemed reluctant to let go of her smaller hand, holding on to it like an anchor. Like he’d done the night at the vet station, maybe in fear if he did let go, he would storm right back into the building and finished what he’d intended to do before Lydia stopped him.

The sky was cloudy and grey and looked like it would start raining soon.

“I should have killed him!” Derek said darkly. His face had turned back to normal. “I should have done it a long time ago!”

“I understand your need to make Gerard pay for everything he has done to you,” Lydia replied softly. “I certainly had that same urge with Brunski when he made me listen to the recording of my grandmother’s murder. If he wasn’t dead already and I met him again, I don’t know what I would do.” She shuddered at the memory of the man’s face who had almost killed her and Stiles as well.

Derek nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. “When Kate held me captive the first time, she taunted me by talking about the fire and playing on my guilt. I had the chance to kill her in Mexico, but I didn’t. Now I could kill Gerard, but… You don’t think it’s stupid of me to let him get away again?”

“I think it shows that you’ve evolved. Killing him now won’t bring you justice, it won’t even make you feel better necessarily. But you are so much better than him, Derek,” Lydia tried to assure him while squeezing his hand tightly.

Not that Gerard didn’t deserve to die, it just wasn’t necessary for Derek to put himself through the trouble. Even if the old man posed no physical threat on first sight – though she wouldn’t put it past him to have prepped his room with explosive and blow himself up along with everyone near him – she didn’t want to risk having to feel Derek dying again. Once was more than enough.

The werewolf gazed down at her, his eyes looked haunted. “Don’t be so sure about that. I made a lot of mistakes. I wanted to kill you.”

Lydia’s chest tightened at the thought at how close he’d been to killing her that night, but she understood his reasons and in the wake of everything that had been happening since that night, she realized she’d made peace with it a long time ago. Mostly because the man standing in front of her now wasn’t the same person anymore.

“Did you or did you just think you had no other choice to stop a homicidal lizard from killing more people? Because there is a significant difference.” She held his gaze as she waited for his answer.

His eyes looked regretful and he swallowed heavy before replying. “I … never _wanted_ to kill you. But that doesn’t make it any better that I almost did. The very least I owe you an apology. I am sorry.”

Lydia shrugged. “I brought Peter back, we’re even. Besides … Gerard will die. Soon.” She nodded toward the building, as sure in her prediction as only a Banshee could be. “And it won’t be pretty. I’ve felt it the moment I entered his room. Don’t worry, he’ll get what he deserves.”

The wind picked up, playing wildly with the loose strands of her hair and Derek’s free hand reached out to tug the streaks behind her ear. Lydia froze at the tender gesture and when Derek realized what he was doing, he quickly pulled away, letting go of her other hand he’d been holding the whole time as well and stashing both his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. She wouldn’t have minded to hold on to his hand a little longer; it was big and rough, but spreading comfortable warmth and a strong sense of security she started to miss as soon as she didn’t feel it any longer.

“We should drive back before it gets dark,” Derek suggested a little awkwardly, gazing up at the darkening sky and running his fingers through his short hair.

“You’re right. You can drop me off at the sheriff station,” Lydia said and started to walk towards the car.

When Derek rushed past her, Lydia thought he would hold the door open for her again. Disappointment settled on her when he went right to the driver’s side, looking all of a sudden angry again. She heard him mutter something under his breath while he slipped into the car and slammed the door shut quite forcefully. Something that sounded remotely like ‘can’t wait to tell him’.

They didn’t speak the entire drive back to Beacon Hills which was so unnerving for Lydia that she kept repeating the _Fibonacci_ sequence inside her head to distract herself while Derek seemed to do the same by testing the speed limit with his hands clutching the steering wheel in a tight grip and his eyes locked on the road. Somewhere along the way it started to rain and when they reached the town it was pouring.

Not once during the ride back Derek looked at her and when he dropped her off at the Sheriff station, he drove off without another word as soon as she had hopped out of the car, like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. She barely had time to close the door before he sped away, splaying water against her feet which made her jump back on the sideway. And with no umbrella it didn’t take long for her to be completely soaked from the rain.

An empty feeling rose in her chest as she made her way to the entrance of the building and she tried to shrug it off immediately. She didn’t need anyone to hold doors for her, especially not Derek Hale who didn’t seem to be able to make up his mind about her. One minute they were getting along and connecting, the next he transformed back into his ‘sour wolf’ self, as Stiles liked to call him, and left her standing in the rain - _literarily_.

She didn’t need him to be nice to her, even though it had felt so good talking to him in the vault and being in his company all day. She couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed the kiss … and for a moment she had thought Derek felt the same…

Apparently she was wrong.

 


	4. The biggest weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thank you so much for still reading and commenting. I'm very sorry about the little delay in updating, but RL has been a little busy. I should also warn you this chapter is a little shorter and full of internal monologue. I hope it didn't turn out too boring or repetitive and that you enjoy it anyway :)

The whole day Derek had been working out, exhausting himself by doing countless push-ups and pull-ups. All in an attempt to keep his body busy as well as occupy his mind.

A week had passed since his unforeseen adventure with Lydia and he tried his best to forget about it. To pretend it never happened. But the task turned out far more difficult than expected. He had finished fixing the broken window of the loft, talked to his sister in Rio, made sure Peter was still locked away at Reichen House, checked on the rest of the pack, even stopped by the sheriff station to keep an eye on the deputy, and now he’d turned towards physical workout to keep himself busy.

But nothing worked to keep his thoughts from wandering back to what happened the last week. As if his own mind was conspiring against him. He thought about Gerard, wondering if the old hunter had said the truth about Parrish being a Jinn and Deucalion being his father or if that was just another of Gerard’s cruel jokes.

Derek always assumed his mother kept his father’s identity a secret from the rest of the family for a reason. To keep her children save or spare pain. But since her death Derek learned his mother had kept much more secrets than he would have ever guessed. Maybe Deaton knew more about this as the former emissary of the Hale pack and could enlighten him, though the vet never showed the same level of loyalty towards Derek like to his mother or even Scott, making him doubt he would get any valuable answer from the man.

 _But Deucalion?_ _His father…?_

He couldn’t wrap his mind around the possibility of being related to the ex-leader of the alpha pack, especially not while keeping in mind how he had kept Cora captured for weeks and almost killed both of them to gain more power. No real father would do that to their children.

Apart from that, the main issue nagging on Derek’s brain was the kiss that shouldn’t have happened. He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, that the kiss had no deeper meaning and no feelings involved whenever his consciousness betrayed him by replaying the memory in his head.

Which happened a lot the last couple of days he spend brooding in his loft if he was being sincere.

No, he was _not_ hiding from Lydia like a lovesick puppy who had just gotten his first kiss and was now too coward to see the girl again. He was getting too old to always revert back to his immature teenage self whenever he got attracted to a woman…

_Woman?_

Derek stopped his own train of thought while hanging in midair from the steel bar where he was doing the pull-ups. That wasn’t right, Lydia was _not_ a woman! He didn’t think of her like that and he was _not_ all of a sudden attracted to her in any way just because of one stupid kiss that hadn’t even been romantic. Just a means to an end to get information about the guy Lydia seemed actually interested in. Nothing else!

Once more his mind betrayed him by reminding him of her birthday comment during her last visit. _She’s 18 and therefor an adult_ , the tiny voice in the back of his head pointed out which only added to his growing annoyance.

“For 5 minutes maybe!” Derek snapped back between more pull-ups to silence his nagging consciousness … it just didn’t work as he hoped it would.

He shouldn’t give it so much thought in the first place, but what was he supposed to do with the redhead even haunting his dreams now? His subconscious just didn’t seem able to stop imagining what it would be like to repeat the kiss under more fortunate...

How could one little kiss turn everything upside down?

He never felt like this for Lydia. He started to enjoy her company in a way that was both unexpected and appealing and of course he always noticed her exceptional beauty during one of their rare encounters with each other, but he’d never been romantically attracted to her before …

 _Liar_ , the persistent voice scolded him and Derek wanted to growl and snap at it to shut up and leave him in peace. But it was useless.

He couldn’t shake the ghost of Lydia’s lips against his from his mind. Or the smell of her hair and the warmth of her skin as she had sighed against his mouth. Almost like she had enjoyed the kiss despite the creepy circumstances. At least the change in her scent implied she’d enjoyed it.

He shook his head to push those thoughts away and continued with the pull-ups until sweat covered his skin. The strain in his muscles was a welcome distraction from his thoughts. He focused on the pain and tried to shut out everything else, until he was so focused on the workout that he almost failed to notice he wasn’t alone anymore. The familiar flowery scent hit him without warning.

Derek let go of the bar and landed with a low thud on the floor. He turned around to find Lydia standing on his doorsteps once again. The redhead didn’t look much different than a few days ago with the exception that she wore a different dress - olive with a zipper in the front - and her hair tied in a loose braid. But it felt like looking at her with brand new eyes, now that he tasted her.

Certain he took her in like a man starved, he mustered all his will power to not let his eyes drop to her red lips, craving more of their sweet taste, envisioning the softness of her hair between his fingertips.

Lydia’s eyes roamed over his naked chest - very quickly, but not fast enough for him not catch her glance or the little silent gasp that formed on her lips while her fingers fidgeted with the strap of her bag – he observed her doing this whenever she was feeling tense. The quick rhythm of her heartbeat tempted his wolf, almost as bad as on a full moon, so he tried to focus his anger like he would do on those nights. Anger was familiar. Anger was safe. Anger was the only thing he was really good at. These new feelings he was starting to experience around Lydia were too unpredictable and too complicated.

“What do you want?” Derek asked harsher than necessary, not bothering with a decent welcome. He turned his back to her to retrieve his shirt and put it on, careful like how you put on armor before riding into battle. When he turned to face her again he kept his face as expressionless as possible.

Lydia took a deep breath. “I’ve told Jordan what we found out from Gerard,“ she let him know.

Derek growled inwardly at the mention of the deputy, but kept a straight face. If Lydia using his first name annoyed him before, it was worse now and he wasn’t keen on guessing how much time she’d spend with the deputy the last week or if she considered it as _dating_.

“He is not convinced that he’s a Jinn,” Lydia continued. “I thought maybe we could go back to the vault to see if there are some more information about Jinn that could help figure out if Gerard said the truth.”

“Ask Malia to open the vault. I’m busy,” Derek waved off. He crossed his arms over his chest in hope his dismissive attitude would made her leave faster. The longer he was in her proximity, the more difficult it became to keep his head straight and not think about the possibility of kissing her again.

A possibility he really _should not_ consider.

“I can see that,” Lydia huffed, her face twisting into a angry frown and a dark flush appearing on her cheeks right down to her cleavage. She didn’t have claws, but the thought of getting kicked in the groin by one of her expensive high heels wasn’t pleasant either. Too bad the anger didn’t make her look any less desirable.

“I’ve also come to tell you how rude you behaved when you left me at the sheriff station the other day and that I will not let you treat me like that! I’m sick of your mood swings and that you can’t decide whether you hate me or not. You didn’t even care to ask me how I felt after -” Lydia trailed off, pressing her lips together, leaving the unspoken words hanging between them. _After the kiss._

“How you felt?” Derek snapped back, holding on to his anger like a lifeline in rough waters to prevent other emotions from bursting to the surface. “You’re not the one who had to see the man responsible for your family’s murder and had him mock you! You insisted on giving him _exactly_ what he wanted without caring about _my_ feelings! And I have played along to get the answers for your precious deputy! Wasn’t that enough?!”

Lydia trembled a little at his outburst. Small tears gleamed at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away furiously. Her hands gripped the strap of her bag so tightly her that her knuckles turned white while she strained her spine. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time you ask for _my_ help!” she hissed and flashed him a cold smile before she turning on her heels to stalk out of the loft.

Frustrated Derek ran his fingers through his hair and took a few breaths to calm himself, but the moment the redhead disappeared through the door all the anger inside of him vanished again, replaced by a hollowness born of the realization that he just acted like a huge jerk for no other reason than the incapability to deal with his own feelings. And even worse he hurt Lydia’s feelings along with the way. He shouldn’t have let himself get carried away like that. He shouldn’t let her get under his skin so easily…

He shouldn’t let her leave like that.

His feet started to move before he realized it and followed Lydia out of the door. Pausing at the top of the staircase he spotted her a few floors below. “Lydia, wait!” he called out, but the redhead just continued stomping down the stairs, muffled sobs and curses paving every step.

Instead of running after her Derek flung himself over the railing in one swift movement and landed on the step right below Lydia, blocking her way with his large frame. She halted before bumping into him with wide eyes and a gasp of surprise. They stood so close her luscious scent engulfed Derek, tasting sour from her agitation.

“Look, Lydia-,” he tried to explain, but she cut him off immediately, aggressively poking a finger at his chest.

“What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like a jerk again?” she cried. “I thought we would finally get along. We talked like … friends. And you get along with everyone else. Even with Stiles! You’ve made peace with Mr. Argent and you’ve trusted your mercenary girlfriend in the blink of an eye, but with me you’re holding your grudge like …” She shook her head, seemingly being at the loss of words. “I don’t know why you can’t see that I try. I try to help the pack. To save people. I know I failed when I predicted your death and couldn’t stop it from happening – which is worse than with Allison or Aiden because I saw it coming for weeks and still couldn’t do anything about it. But I felt it! Don’t you dare treat me like this after I felt you dying!”

For a moment Derek was taken aback by her confession. He always assumed Banshees predicted death by experiencing a strong sense of doom connected to the people that would be dying … but he wouldn’t have guessed they _felt_ others’ death as if a part of them died too.

The chest poking was getting annoying and he caught her hand in his to keep it still. There it was again – that tiny jolt that seemed to pass between them whenever they touched. “That’s not the reason,” he whispered softly, feeling even worse now for the way he treated her.

“Then what is it?” Her red-rimmed eyes searched his face for an answer that would make sense. She didn’t try to get her hand out of his grip.

“It’s the kiss,” Derek blurted out before he could stop himself.

Lydia frowned. “The _kiss_?” she repeated.

Derek cleared his throat. “Look, Gerard’s a lunatic,” he tried to explain, “but also a brilliant observer and manipulator. He can pick you apart with just one glance, find your biggest weakness and use it against you.”

Derek spoke from experience and that’s why it hasn’t been hard for him to guess Gerard’s real intentions behind the kiss. Derek’s biggest weakness has always been his heart. That’s why it hadn’t been difficult for Kate to get close to him on Gerard’s order. He should have seen it coming that the old man would trick him and drag Lydia into his ploy as well.

“He couldn’t get to us physically,” Derek explained further, “but he knew how to get into our heads. To manipulate us with our emotions. Just like he did with Allison and her grief for her mother.”

Shaking her head slowly Lydia argued back, “That would only make sense if he knew that getting us to kiss would affect us emotionally. If the kiss was more -” She stopped short to examine Derek’s face carefully as realization hit her. “Which isn’t the case, is it? I mean ... it was just for the show and you don’t…“

She trailed off with her voice sounding uncertain, but her unspoken words hung in the air between them. Her eyebrows drew together as she studied him harder. “You don’t really like me. You never did. You only tolerated me because of Scott. But you’ve hardly talked to me and never wanted me around when you taught Jackson about being a werewolf. You’re always avoiding me.”

Derek’s mouth opened and closed again without a sound coming out. By his own logic, Gerard had played on a weakness he’d observed within Derek, and maybe within Lydia as well. So was it true? Did he just try to convince himself the kiss didn’t mean anything out of fear that it could be the opposite? That there could have been _real feelings_ involved he wasn’t aware of before? That they both weren’t aware of? Was that the reason why he was making such a fool out of himself now?

His mouth felt dry and de didn’t trust his voice to not betray him, so he clenched his teeth together and stayed silent.

Lydia stared at him, still waiting for an answer. “Well?” she asked. “Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?”

She was right.

There was no denying anymore the kiss stirred something inside him. Something more than primal desire based on wolf instincts. More intense than what he experienced with his last lovers and that reminded him of the way he used to feel about Paige. As if he tasted the sweetest forbidden fruit and he couldn’t stop craving more.

Memories of past encounters with Lydia flickered through his head and his feelings connected to them drew a clear picture. From the way she’d amazed him when she saved Jackson to her face being the last thing he’d thought about before ‘dying’, not because she had predicted the outcome but as a soothing comfort for his final moments…

Enough signs that should have made him realize much sooner that he might not have seen Lydia as a friend before, but that didn’t mean he’s never seen her as something else. That he has never _felt_ something.

And it took Gerard just one look to figure it out and use it for his advantage.

“Precaution,” he tried to explain. “I-I knew if I got to know you a little, I would only end up wanting to know you _more_. I would have wanted to get closer than would be have been wise and I thought it was better this way. I was protecting both of us, Lydia.”

“You mean you feared if you got to know me better, you would have ended up feeling something for me? Something that you are feelingnowbecause of the kiss?”

Again spot-on.

She still watched him with some kind of expectation written on her face, though Derek couldn’t tell what it was. His skin started to prickle. “I think you should go,” he suggested halfhearted. Not because he wanted her to leave, but because it was the right thing to do. To put some distance between them and clear their minds.

None of them moved.

They just kept staring at each other as if waiting for something. Waiting for the other to make the first move – whatever that might be.

He noticed Lydia’s gaze dropping to his lips. _Now_ he really should move, let her leave and not mention the kiss ever again. Everything else seemed like a really bad idea. Letting go of her hand would have been a good start, but it just felt too good holding it, too natural and right. Just like it had at the vault and the parking lot and he was growing accustomed to the feeling strangely fast.

But he couldn’t make his legs move. He felt rooted to the spot, held captive by Lydia’s unwavering glance. Her piercing eyes boring straight into his.

What was she waiting for? Why didn’t she just tell him to go to hell like he’d expected?

Lydia straightened her spine and raised her chin which made her meet his gaze on eye level. His nostrils flared as he started to notice the change in her scent, not the sour taste of lemons any longer, but much sweeter like warm honey, tempting him to lean closer and inhale deeply.

“You know,” she said in a husky voice, wetting her lips and slowly leaning forward, “if there’s something between us there’s only one way to find out.”

 


	5. Moth to the flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING: This chapter is of explicit content (hence the rating for the story).** It's basically just a gift to my fellow Dydia shippers because we hardly got nice things on the show. However it is not necessary to read it to understand the last chapter that's still coming. So my dear readers, if you're not comfortable in reading stuff like this, you can skip this chapter without worries :)  
>  This is the first time I've actually written something as explicit as this, so I hope it didn't turn out too awful.  
> Thank you :)

_Only one way to find out…_

Derek’s mind was blank for a moment as he recalled Lydia’s words and tried to process the meaning of them. She held his gaze captive while she slowly leaned forward, her face inched closer to his. Standing one stair above him she barely reached his eye-level and had to crane her neck to meet him, but she hesitated, waiting for him to close the last bit of distance between them.

His body stiffened with a lump building in his throat. Again he felt like stuck in his teenage self that didn’t know what to do face to face with the girl he desired. To be honest he knew what he _wanted_ to do. What every fiber in his body screamed for him to do. Which was exactly the thing he should not do!

It was like fighting a lost battle with his instincts. Entranced by the rhythm of her fluttering heart, along with her alluring scent and huge tempting eyes, he was stunned. His gaze was drawn to her half-parted lips and his head started to dip of its own volition to meet her halfway. Drawn to her like a moth to the flame.

The first touch of their lips wasn’t as shocking and unfamiliar as the last time, but just as intense and consuming like a wildfire spreading through his system. It was one long firm kiss with their mouths moving leisurely against each other, cherishing and drawing out the sensation until they needed to break away for air.

Something snapped inside of him, instinct taking over. He took the opportunity to change position and press Lydia up against the wall. He hesitated a moment with his eyes seeking her permission before continuing. The redhead gave a small nod which was enough to make him reclaim her mouth with his hungry lips. The kiss became more passionate. The suppressed craving of the last couple of days poured out of him and this time without having to worry about any psychotic ex-hunter watching he was ready give in.

Lydia’s hand curled into the neckline of his shirt with her fingernails scraping over his skin and chest hair. Her other hand wrapped around his neck. Derek pressed his body flush against hers. The action drew a stream of needy noises and low moans from her lips. He started to kiss down her neck, all the while breathing in her intoxicating scent saturated by her growing arousal.

He tried to keep a clear head for he knew they were moving much too fast. They should stop before they started something neither of them has thought through. But it was getting more and more difficult to listen to his own voice of reason with Lydia wrapped in his arms and her soft body grinding against his in all the right places. Reluctant he pulled away a little to catch his breath. He braced one hand against the wall next to her head while the other stayed on her hip, not able to let go of her completely.

“Maybe we should-,“ he panted, his voice trailing off between heavy breaths.

“Get back to your loft?” Lydia suggested sounding just as breathless as him before she pulled his head back down for more heated kisses. “That is a brilliant idea.”

His wolf didn’t protest. In fact his wolf was more than willing to continue where they were and not waste time to get back to the loft, but Derek reminded himself if they were going to do this, they should do it the right way.

The way Lydia deserved.

She squealed in delight when he scooped her up in his arms to carry her back upstairs, her legs wrapped around his waist, heat radiating through his clothes. He didn’t bother to close the loft’s door behind them. He didn’t expect more visitors and his mind was just too occupied by Lydia’s hands exploring his back and her mouth nibbling on his earlobe to care about someone possibly walking in on them.

Lydia seemed just as impatient as she tried to pull his shirt over his head in attempt to touch bare skin, but with their limbs holding on to each other it wasn’t possible and she let out a whiny noise before seeking his mouth to bite down hard on his bottom lip to emphasize her frustration. Derek smirked as he gave her bottom a firm squeeze in return and moved towards the bed. Her legs untangled from his waist to stand on the low mattress with her bare feet. Somewhere on the way she must have lost her shoes, but Derek didn’t care. He ran his fingers through her hair, making the loose braid come undone and the hair pour over her shoulders in a curtail of red curls. With the short girl standing on the bed they were almost eye-level.

He stretched his arms above his head so that Lydia could remove his shirt. She tossed it to the floor, before she reclaimed his lips with her delicate hands caressing his cheeks. His arms circled her waist to hold her close. They kept kissing a little longer, lost in the taste and feel of each other.

Lydia’s hands dropped down to his shoulders to his pecs with her fingernails grazing through his dark chest hair all the way down to his abs, before settling on the waistband of his jeans. His hands started their own journey across Lydia’s back in search of the zipper of her dress, but couldn’t find it. He was about to extent his claws to slice through the straps of the dress, when Lydia whispered into his ear, “Front, dummy.” One of her hands brushed over the bulge building in his pants and the touch send a delicious shudder down his spine. “Zipper’s in the front, remember?”

He chuckled over his own forgetfulness which he blamed on Lydia, before he pulled away enough to get access to her front. Slowly he lowered the zipper - not all the way down, just far enough to expose her chest and the black lace bra she was wearing. Her breasts moved with every breath, drawing his attention to their perfect roundness, prompting him to dip his head and lick across her cleavage. To taste the salty sweetness of her flushed skin. Her fingernails dug into the skin of his bicep as he closed his mouth over one of her breasts to suck on it through the thin fabric of the bra which made Lydia inhale sharply. He repeated the action on the other one, wondering how it could already be this good and how much better it would be without the lace in the way.

Lydia let her head drop back with a low moan and ached into his touch with her hands running through the short hair and over his back, tracing the spirals of his triskele tattoo. Reluctantly he pulled away to straighten up and touch his forehead to Lydia’s, her eyes hooded with desire as he went back to undressing her. She let him take the lead and he took his time, enjoying the rush of excitement accelerating her heartbeat and breathing while he lowered the zipper inch by inch. He shoved the dress off her shoulders, taking a moment to appreciate her exquisite curves barely covered by the fancy lingerie.

He unclasped the bra and tossed it to the floor next to her dress and his shirt and where the rest of their clothes would follow. The sight of her full bare breasts hanging in front of his face was far too delicious with their peaked nipples begging him to feast on them, but he held himself back until he would be finished with the undressing.

His fingers curled into the waistband of her panties. In the same slow teasing manner as with the zipper he lowered them to her ankles while bending to his knees, rubbing his cheek softly against her skin. When he kneeled before her and looked up, his breath caught in his throat at the captivating sight of beauty before him. It was like looking at _Botticelli_ _’s Venus_ brought to life. Her ivory skin, the long red curls cascading around her shoulders and her luscious body in all its naked glory illuminated by the last drops of sunlight shining through the fixed window of the loft. A sight to make a man believe in heaven again.

Innocent like an angel but with a naughty gleam in her eyes.

In one swift move Derek scooped her up and lowered on her back on the bed to cover her body with his, once again starting a session of fiery kisses while his hands roamed over her silky flesh. The growing evidence of his arousal strained against the inside of his pants and he started to grind against her thigh to release some of the tension, making her moan against his lips, her fingernails scraping delicately over his back. He moved lower then and planted wet kisses all over her skin. He stopped for a moment to give her breasts the attention they deserved. Sucking and flickering his tongue over the sensitive nipples. He continued downwards, teeth nibbling at her tender skin, tongue flickering over her bellybutton.

Lydia wiggled beneath him. Her hands fisted into the dark sheets while her legs parted for him. He pushed them even farther apart to get better access to her moist center. Her scent rolled over him, reeking of need so strong it made his head spin as he breathed her in. Hungrily he buried his face in her most sensitive area, alternating between licking and sucking and biting at her swollen flesh until her body started to shudder beneath him, her back arched of the bed with her hips pushing upwards into his touch. He added his fingers to the penetration and enjoyed all the sounds, the moans and gasps he withdrew from her mouth with his stimulation.

He took his time to explore her body, to learn what she liked and what made her tug hard at his hair to get more of it, until her rich taste filled his mouth and her muscles relaxed. He leaned back on his heels to appraise his work. Lydia’s hair was a messy halo sprawled over the pillows, her skin was glowing with sweat and the look on her flushed face was pure bliss.

“That was … nice,” she purred, arching her back and stretching her muscles like a cat.

Derek arched his eyebrow and made a face. “Just nice?” he questioned in in mock challenge. He hadn’t aimed for _just_ _nice_. He wanted to give her the pleasure she deserved, worship her and make her cry out his name in ecstasy.

The redhead sat up smirking and bat her long lashes at him coyly. Her hand reached for his pants and tugged at one of the belt loops. “If you want to impress me, you should get rid of those.”

God, he wanted to! He wanted nothing else!

His arousal pressing uncomfortably against the rough fabric of his jeans was killing him, but the last working part of his brain that wasn’t clouded by his craving cautioned him by reminding him if they proceeded they should be on the save side. “I don’t have any protection,“ he admitted. After breaking up with Braeden he didn’t bother to refill his stocks since he hadn’t expected to be with someone else so shortly after.

“In my bag.” Her words made his eyebrows rise even higher and left him wondering if Lydia just liked to be prepared in general or if she counted on this to happen between them. But who was he to argue with his luck.

He left the bed to look around the loft for the bag, but couldn’t spot it anywhere. With a frustrated groan he realized Lydia must have left it on the stairway. “Be right back”, he said before he rushed out of the loft and down the stairs to retrieve the bag. When he returned, Lydia was still sitting on the bed, looking rather impatient with one of her locks twirled around her finger. She reached out a hand for the bag as soon as he reached the bed.

“Give me that. You get _these_ off! _Now_!” she ordered and pointed at his pants. Her bossy tone sent a jolt of new desire through him straight to his groin. As much as he liked to be in control, he also enjoyed _being controlled_ by someone he felt comfortable with. He was a complicated man on the matter, but Lydia seemed more than capable to balance his needs without neglecting her own likings.

While he kicked off his shoes and took off the rest of his clothes, Lydia searched through her bag for the condoms. He hissed in relief when he finally managed to pull his pants off and free his hard length from its prison. He turned his attention back to Lydia and couldn’t resist stroking himself a few times while letting his gaze travel over her naked frame.

She looked at him, biting her lip as she took in his size, making his chest swell with pride. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was well endowed. “This should fit,” she muttered as she settled for one of the little square packages, then tossed the bag aside and patted the space next to her as an invitation for him to join her back on the bed.

Derek crawled beside her, half covering her body with his, but making sure to keep most of his weight on his arms so he wouldn’t crush her. He captured her lips for another kiss, deepening it with his tongue seeking passage into her hot mouth to swallow her moans of pleasure, until he felt her left hand press firmly against his chest to make him roll over and lay back against the pillows. Her fingers danced over his chest and abs, making his stomach clench. He reached for the condom in her other hand, but Lydia held it out of his reach.

She shook her head, eyes sparkling naughtily. “Not yet,” she whispered against his lips, before she started to kiss along his rough jawline and down his neck. She moved lower, kissing and licking over his hard muscles with clear intention to return the favor he’d granted her a few minutes ago.

Derek closed his eyes in anticipation when he felt her close to where he wanted to feel her the most. At first just her hot breath hovering over his sensitive skin, followed by her even hotter mouth closing around him. Alternating between licking and sucking with her fingernails running through his fuzzy pubic hair. Over and over again.

The most blissful torture.

He tried his best to let her have her way with him, but his wolf clawed at his patience and his hips refused to stay still. They arched and thrust upwards, while Lydia knew exactly what to do to drive him towards the edge. Pressure pulsed through his blood, fire licked at his nerves, pulling at his restraint. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take the teasing. Sweat started to drip from his forehead and he grabbed for the headboard above his head.

His wolf almost howled in frustration when Lydia pulled away, denying him the final push he needed. His eyes snapped open with a low growl rumbling in his chest, eyes flickering blue for a moment which didn’t seem to impress her. She looked down at him with a smug expression while licking her glistening lips. “Well? Was that _nice_?” She winked at him.

Derek shook his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he panted in awe.

She pursed her lips. “Oh, I’m aware of that. But we’re not finished yet.”

She turned her attention to the little package in her hand, opened it and unrolled the condom onto his throbbing length, stroking him, before she straddled his thighs and sank down on him. His eyes fluttered shut as the tight hot sensation overwhelmed him and a long moan escaped his lips. It felt so good. _So right._

Like everything he’s been waiting for.

Lydia hummed in approval, enjoying the intense feeling as much as he did. She braced her hands on his shoulders and started to rock against him. Slow and steady. Drawing out each thrust as long as possible to savor the feeling. The tips of her long hair brushed his skin. He let go of the headboard to grab her hips and guide her movements in the right direction, making her grind down harder. He kept his eyes open to take in every second of their union - every movement, every expression - and brand them into his memory if this would turn out to be their only time together.

Their breathing became heavier, their moans grew louder, turning into gasps and cries of passion echoing through the loft. Derek was grateful he didn’t have neighbors and no reason to hold back. Their sweat dripping skin slammed against each other as Lydia picked up the pace. He met her movements with thrusts of his own. Her breasts bounced deliciously in front of his face and he squeezed her plump bottom cheeks that fit so well into his large palms. Her walls started to clench around him. He was so close, but he wanted to make sure Lydia was there as well.

He flipped them over so that he was on top now and could set the pace. He picked up speed and thrust inside her body a lot faster and harder. He briefly wondered if he was too rough, but then he remembered that this was Lydia after all. Despite her young age she was no wallflower. She had quite the experience with her past boyfriends and lovers, even supernatural ones, though Derek rather not delved on this too long.

She could handle a werewolf.

And she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

As if to prove his point she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist more tightly, melting her body against his with her soft breasts pushing against his heavy muscles. He changed the angle until her unbridled cries told him he found the right spot and made sure to hit it with every new thrust. One of his hands sneaked between their bodies to rub the sensible bundle of nerves above her entrance. Lydia held on to his shoulders with her fingernails digging hard into his skin, breathless swears falling from both their lips as he thrust with enough force to make the bed shake around them, claiming her the way she wanted him to. She cried his name as her climax consumed her. Her tight heat contracted around him, triggering his own release. He buried his face against her neck to inhale her peerless scent.

When it was over he took a few breaths before he rolled to the side and lay back beside Lydia. The redhead looked up at the ceiling while trying to regain her breath, completely spend. She curled into his side and bedded her head on his chest. Maybe he should have said something, but he was reluctant to break the comfortable silence settling over them in the dark loft. His mind was at peace like he’s hardly experienced it before.

He wrapped his arm around her much smaller frame and gently brushed some sweaty strands of hair out of her face. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, her cheek snuggling against his chest with a sated smile on her lips. He watched her drift off, her slowing heartbeat lulling him to sleep like a familiar lullaby.

Derek sighed, feeling his own exhaustion taking over him. He knew they would have to talk about what just happened between them in the morning, whether it meant something or was just a one-time thing. But for now, it was enough to just close his eyes and give into the comfort of holding Lydia close for the rest of the night.

 


	6. Something more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter. I'm so happy and grateful to everyone who stuck with me until the end. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I did writing it.  
> Thank you all for reading and a special thank you to those lovely people leaving feedback :)

Sunlight swept through the window of the loft, casting a pattern of light and shadow on Lydia’s skin when she awoke in the morning, tangled up in the dark sheets of Derek’s large bed. Much bigger than her own and a lot softer than to expect from the rough werewolf. Drowsy she rubbed her eyes, rolled on her back with a groan and stretched her limbs despite her body’s protests. She felt sour and ached in the most blissful way, reminding her of all the delicious details of the last night. She reached out in search of the warm muscular body she expected to lie beside her, only to find the bed empty.

She sat up slowly. The bedsheet piled down around her waist as she stretched her arms over her head, craned her neck and ran her fingers through her messy curls. Her gaze drifted around the loft. She spotted her clothes she’s last seen scattered on the floor neatly folded on the old couch. The fern she brought him a week ago stood on the low table in front of the couch, still looking green and healthy which told her Derek must have taken good care of it. But there was no sign of the big bad wolf.

Frowning she noticed the loft’s door standing wide open. He wouldn’t just leave her alone after what happened between them, going back to ignoring and avoiding her, would he? Was this his not so subtle way of giving her space and the chance to leave without having to face him?

She expected him wanting to talk to her, but maybe there was nothing to talk about on Derek’s behalf. Maybe he saw it as a mistake that shouldn’t have happened, only … it didn’t feel like mistake for Lydia. Unexpected, overwhelming, even a little frightening in its intensity, but not wrong and not like something to just forget about and move on.

She decided to wait for Derek to stop being a coward and they could talk. She didn’t feel like being able to leave the bed yet anyway with her legs still feeling kind of wobbly, she doubted they would support her if she tried to stand up in her heels. With her arms crossed on her bend knees she closed her eyes, absently twisting one of her locks around her finger as the vivid memories of last night replayed in her head. All the ways Derek explored her body. The way he touched her and made her feel like bursting of fervor on a new level. Rough fingertips caressing her cheek, running through her hair and tracing her neck, memorizing every curve. The memories drew a wistful sigh from her lips.

A low noise caught her attention and her eyes snapped open to see Derek enter the living area of the loft from the other room which she assumed to be the kitchen. He was barefoot and wearing just a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips which granted her a wonderful view of his marvelous torso right down to his prominent hipbones. Lydia’s gaze roamed over his chest, following the trail of dark hair running down his stomach before disappearing under the waistband of his pants. His hair looked damp from the show he must have taken before she woke up. In his hand he carried a cup of steaming-hot coffee that smelt so delicious that her mouth watered. She wasn’t hungry, but she could use some hydration.

He leaned against the wooden girder beside the bed to study her quietly with a casual smile playing on his lips. He looked so relaxed, so at ease like she never imagined seeing him. It suited him in a way that made her wish if sex had this effect on him, he should have more of it… and she wouldn’t mind volunteering.

Lydia dug her head pressing her lips against her arm to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her mind was still clouded by her memories - the taste of his skin and the sensation of his hard muscles trembling underneath her touch. A jolt of heat stirred inside her and she hoped Derek wouldn’t catch it. The flaring of his nostrils and darkening of his eyes told her otherwise.

Of course he would notice with his annoying enhanced wolf senses!

The flush burning her face was even more telltale and Lydia cleared her throat. “What?” she asked defensive as she ran a hand through her hair to tame the rumbled curls and make her look a little more presentable. Her voice sounded a little too high-pitched for her liking and she felt a little too agitated by his pervasive stare. But she wasn’t that kind of girl, not anymore at least. She wouldn’t faint under the gaze of an attractive half-naked man – not even if it was Derek Hale.

The werewolf sent her a smile that made her heart skip a beat, flashing perfect white teeth. “Nothing. How have you been sleeping?”

Lydia pursed her lips, tempted to point out that it’s been _his_ fault she weren’t able to find much sleep. “Good. Usually I don’t sleep that well in other people’s beds,” she explained, but left out how good she has slept with his large frame wrapped around her protectively like a warm blanket and his soft snoring lulling her to sleep her like a familiar lullaby. She wouldn’t confess any of this until Derek would start to share some piece of his own mind about the matter.

“So-,“ she stretched the word, not sure where or how to start. “I guess we should talk.”

Derek nodded. “You’re right.”

He left his position against the girder to move towards the bed. Lydia crossed her legs under her body to make room for him to sit down. She didn’t bother to cover her breasts since he’d already seen everything there was to see and she just felt too comfortable in her skin, in his company, making it hard to believe this was their first morning together. He handed her his cup which she accepted grateful and took a long sip of the dark liquid. Surprisingly Derek liked his coffee just as strong as she did.

“We should clarify where we’re standing. Ladies first.” He motioned for her to start as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Collecting her thoughts she took another sip of coffee before answering.

“What happened last night was … good. I mean fantastically good.” Derek chuckled at her compliment with his eyes cast down. “But I’m not sure what it means.”

He hummed in understanding and. “I’m not sure either. I didn’t expect you to show up and seduce me.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he looked at her sideways.

“Seduce you?” Lydia huffed and slapped his arm playfully. “Sweetheart, _you_ were the one half-naked and all sweaty when I arrived. I had no impure intentions!”

“I’ve been training!”

“Whatever.” She waved him off and emptied the coffee in one long gulp before continuing. “The point is it happened, so what does it mean?”

“Do you want it to mean something?” he asked in return, holding her gaze.

That was the big question.

Lydia thought about it while tapping her finger against the rim of the empty cup. She knew what her body wanted – a lot more of what she got last night – but was she ready to risk her heart with Aiden’s death still weighing fresh on her mind? With the one person in town who experienced more heartache and was probably even more emotionally scarred than her?

Maybe she was giving it too much thought and it was nothing but a onetime thing for Derek to get rid of the tension that had built between them since their kiss. Lydia wasn’t sure how she would feel about that. Despite her own history of casual hookups, she has come to the point where she wanted _something more_.

“Maybe. I’m not sure. We have never spend much time together which I feel was a mistake. Because I enjoyed being in your company and talking to you and getting to know you the last couple of days ... And the sex was definitely worth it. But I haven’t thought everything through and if you’re not feeling the same then … did I mention the sex was really fantastic?”

“Twice now.” Derek chuckled and flashed another crooked smile at her that was so irresistible she had to fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him. He focused on his hands again, rubbing them together to keep them busy and avoiding her gaze almost like he wouldn’t be able to get the words out if he looked her in the eye. “I do feel the same. I already told you why I always avoided you, that if I get to know you I wouldn’t want to stop. And that’s exactly what happened.” He turned towards her and took the empty cup from her hands to place it on the floor beside the bed, before he said, “We don’t have to pressure ourselves. We can take our time, spend more time together and see what happens.”

“Mmmm, spend more time together in or outside of your bed?” Lydia teased, leaning forward with her head titled to the side and her face getting close to his.

Derek smirked. “That’s up to you.” His eyes looked on her lips as he leaned in further with the obvious intention to kiss her. Before he did though, Lydia leaned away and covered her mouth with her hand. He frowned in confusion.

“Don’t. I must have horrible breath,” she explained a little mortified.

“I’ve smelt worse,” the werewolf replied. Lydia pushed him back to give him an incredulous look which made him realize his poor choice of words and duck his head. “I mean you smell much better than most people in the morning,” he clarified which didn’t make it better.

Lydia rolled her eyes in annoyance. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t had to make someone feel special in a long time,” he confessed and then moved forward, invading her personal space again without giving her the chance to back away this time as he buried his head in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. Lydia was sure she’d to smell repulsive without a shower, the stench of her own dried sweat on her skin, while Derek smelt refreshing of soap, but he didn’t seem to care. He ran his nose along her neck. His breath tickled her skin as he whispered, “Honestly, you have no idea how good you smell.”

His words and actions made her breath catch in her throat and sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. Jackson and Aiden used to do the same sometimes, making her assume it was a wolf quirk since she knew from documentaries how important smell and touch were for the social behavior of real wolves. Werewolves didn’t seem much different in their basic needs. Frankly it had never felt like this before. It had never made her skin prickle or her heartbeat race like this.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she fought against the urge to wrap her arms around Derek and pull him down with her. “You mean you didn’t have to use your irresistible charm on Braeden?” she asked.

A deep laugh rumbled of his chest. “Irresistible, huh?” The cockiness in his voice made her roll her eyes again, though it was getting difficult to keep track of her thoughts with his lips pressing down on her neck, placing soft kisses all over her skin.

“Is this … is this compensation for your break-up?” Her fingers itched to touch and she placed her hand on the back of his neck to massage his muscles and play with the hairline as Derek sucked on the spot over her frenzied beating pulse with his teeth scratching gently over her skin.

He paused when he registered her question, his mouth hovering inches above her flushed neck so that she still felt his breath on her skin. “Is it compensation for Aiden? Or Parrish?” he retorted. The tight-drawn tone in his words almost sounded like jealousy. _Almost._

Was that the reason why he reacted so offensive whenever Lydia mentioned the deputy? Did he fear the competition?

“Have you heard that Danny’s back in town from his semester in Europe?”

Reluctant Derek’s head snapped back and Lydia couldn’t help but pout about the loss of his gifted lips. He gave her a puzzled look with his thick eyebrows drawn together in confusion as he tried to remember who Danny was or why he should be interested in his return. “Why should I?”

“Doesn’t matter. But when _you_ left me at the sheriff station so rudely the other day he was the one to pick me up after talking to Jordan.” She smirked at Derek’s annoyed expression and the tense set of his shoulders when she used the deputy’s first name again. _Definitely jealousy!_ “I introduced them and… let’s just say Jordan only had eyes for one of us in that moment and it wasn’t me.”

“You mean Parrish is gay?” His eyebrows shot up so high in disbelief that they almost vanished beneath his tousled hair. It seemed a little longer than usual and in need of a fresh cut with the ends starting to curl in soft waves, tempting Lydia to reach out and brush the damp strands out of his forehead.

She just shrugged. People fell in love with people – or werewolves. It wasn’t her place to judge, but she was certain the deputy’s initial interest in her was more about both of them being supernatural beings and less about romantic interest and this didn’t bother her the way it did when she thought Derek didn’t desire her.

She noticed the werewolf exhale and his shoulders relax as he shook his head in disbelief. Lydia crooked an eyebrow. “You weren’t jealous, were you?” she inquired.

Instead of answering he quickly changed the subject. “He could still be dangerous though. We need to find out what kind of Jinni he is.”

“And for that we have to work together close?” Lydia teased, heat building in her insides the longer she was in Derek’s proximity, barely able to suppress the memories of last night occupying her thoughts once more.

Derek leaned closer taking her bait. “Very close.” He directed his face back to her neck to resume his previous action, but not before Lydia caught the little smile crossing his face. His large hand snatched around her body to rest warm and comfortable on her lower back.

Enjoying the feel of Derek’s mouth sucking on her pulse Lydia didn’t want to break the moment, but there was something else weighing on her mind she wanted to ask Derek about. “Do you believe what Gerard said?” she whispered and felt the werewolf hesitate at her words. “About Deucalion being your father?”

He sighed against her skin. “It’s Gerard. Even if he said the truth, he only did it with the purpose to antagonize me and make me doubt my mother. I don’t know much about my father. I’ve never met him, neither did Cora nor Laura I think. He was never part of our family and we never talked about him. I doubt even Deaton knows anything.”

A tight knot built in Lydia’s chest, moved by the vulnerability in his voice he seemed to have stopped trying to hide from her. Recollecting his previous confessions about his worries and insecurities which mirrored her own in so many ways, it made her realize just how much he’d started to share with her the last days. How much they _both_ had shared with each other. It felt so natural to confide in each other that she wondered why it took them so long to get to this level of trust and connection or if it was mere a result of their recent physical intimacy.

“Then you can’t be sure if he’s still alive or a werewolf. It could be Deucalion.”

Derek shook his head, rubbing his nose against her skin in the process and Lydia ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him. “I know that he and my mother have known each other for a long time and that they used to be close – closer than most alphas from different packs – but that’s all. If they’ve been in a relationship they would have kept it secret due to pack politics.”

“How about you ask your mother?” Lydia suggested.

Derek pulled his head back to look at her thoughtfully. “Can’t. She’s dead, remember?”

“You’re right, _you_ can’t, but I can,” she said all smug and pointed at herself. “Banshee. Talks to dead people. Do you still have your mother’s claws?”

“Lydia, I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to-“

“No, but I want to,” she cut him off. She cradled his chin in her hand, tracing his distinctive jawline. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been in contact with your mother before and got her to spill Peter’s secret. I can do this, Derek. You’ve helped me, the least I can do is return the favor. The real question is – do you want to know?”

Derek looked her straight in the eyes, like he was searching for answers hidden behind her eyes he couldn’t find within himself. “Would you?” he asked, the vulnerability in his voice made him sound younger.

Lydia thought about it, choosing her words carefully because of the weight they could have on Derek’s decision. “Sometimes it’s better not knowing. Not knowing can’t hurt you the way knowing can, but always asking yourself ‘what if’ can be worse. So yes, I would want to know.” She traced the outline of his bottom lip with her thumb as Derek leaned into her touch. Her other hand reached for his hand to brush her thumb over his knuckles, rough from years of fighting despite his regenerative abilities. “But it won’t change anything. Even if Deucalion is your father, it doesn’t change who you are. Just like a madman like Peter being your uncle never changed who you are. You might share the same DNA but you’re not like them.”

Derek nodded and pressed his lips to her in a long kiss, before he stood up to walk towards the ripped wall by the broken elevator and pulled out something behind a loose brick. He returned to the bed with a small ruby velvet bag embroidered with the Hale triskele.

“I still have no idea why Peter threw them against the wall,” he said with a shake of his head. “But I’ve stopped trying to make sense of him.”

“Actually… that was me,” Lydia admitted sheepishly and bit her bottom lip.

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise, but didn’t comment on this new information. He opened the sachet and let the claws drop into her waiting hands. As soon as the claws touched her palm Lydia felt her skin prickle with something like an electric current running through her system. Power and heat echoing the alpha power they contained once. She closed her eyes as her fingers curled around the claws and her mind was consumed by the energy they radiated. She felt reality slipping. As if she was pulled out of her mind by invisible force, similar how it had felt when she and Scott entered Stiles’ mind.

Surround by darkness and smoke and light all weaved into one she drifted through the empty cavern of her mind until the silence was filled with static and noises. Whispering voices, some louder than others, some too far gone. She was drawn towards the most prominent one standing out against the rest like a flashlight in a dark pit.

Out of the void a dark silhouette formed in her vision, taking the shape of a huge wolf with glowing red eyes filled with human-like intelligence.

Derek’s mother. _Talia Hale._

Not the monstrous creature Peter transformed into but the majestic animal with jet black fur flickering like smoke she imagined Derek to look like in his wolf form. With the exception that his eyes would be a striking blue. Which she preferred to the ruby of the alphas as it reminded her too much of Peter’s bloodthirsty eyes the night he attacked her. The blue reminded her of safety and trust. Serenity. Of Jackson and Aiden. Of her grandmother’s favorite flowers and Allison’s last dress.

She heard Talia’s voice in her head as clear as her own, giving her the answers she sought...

A hand brushed her shoulder. The touch startled her and made her snap out of her vision. She opened her eyes to find Derek looking concerned. He cupped her face in his hand and studied her intensively. Being touched so gently by the usually so grumpy werewolf was still such new and raw experience, it made her nerves tingle in elation.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You just zoomed out and for a moment I thought you stopped breathing.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him and looked down at the claws in her hands before returning them into the little velvet bag. “I’ve talked to your mother … sort of.” She grimaced, not sure how to put in words what she just experienced – a telepathic conversation with a dead werewolf? It was difficult to explain her gift with it shifting between clear visions and merely her sixth sense warning her of what’s to come. Probably as difficult as trying to describe what it felt like to shift into a wolf. Something you had to experience yourself to understand it.

She took a deep breath as she reached for Derek’s hand and held it in her much smaller ones. “Gerard’s said the truth. Deucalion is your father.” She bit her lip as she waited for his reaction. He started at her, his disbelief slowly turning into resignation. His eyes drifted past her to look out the window.

“Do you know why she kept this from me all this time?”

“Just like you suspected. Because of pack politics and because Deucalion didn’t know himself. I think they were together but never in a real relationship. They couldn’t be together with them being alphas of different packs. She made him believe someone else was your father but as you grew up the resemblance to him became more evident. She wanted to tell you when you were older but then Deucalion started to kill his pack. She was afraid if he found out you’re his son, he would try to kill you. And then she died … but she always intended to tell you some day.” She squeezed his hand in comfort. “Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not.” Derek sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s good that I know, but like you said it doesn’t change anything. Deucalion might be my father, but he’s not family.”

Lydia nodded in sympathy and leaned forward to brush her lips across Derek’s jawline with the profound desire to make him feel better, the beard stubbles caressing her skin. Moving to his mouth the kiss grew more passionate with Derek pressing his hand against her lower back to pull her closer to his side. The hot touch burned through her skin and set her nerves on fire. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she wiggled out of the sheets and moved to sit on his lap, pressing her naked body flush against his chest, feeling his heartbeat like her own.

Before the kissing escalated further, Derek pulled his head back to look at her face. “Maybe I should take you home,” he suggested halfhearted as he seemed to have trouble to focus on anything else but her mouth. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire as he pushed some curls out of her face, leaving no doubt in her mind that his offer to take her home was him merely trying to be a gentleman while he really craved to keep her in his bed a little longer.

Lydia pursed her lips while raising her chin and batting her lashes at the man in front of her. She let one of her hands fall from his broad shoulder with her fingernails slowly grazing down his chest. She felt Derek shudder in response and his muscles clench beneath her touch. A coy smile tugged at her lips as she purred, “First I need a shower. Then you get the Camaro from wherever you’ve been hiding it and give me a ride home in a vehicle that’s worth me.”

“I think that can be arranged.” Derek’s smile turned wolfish. His eyes flashed striking blue, before he scooped her up in his arms in one smooth motion and left the bed to head towards the bathroom of the loft, claiming her mouth once more before even reaching the door.

Even though it was far too early to say where they were going from here, being carried around by this werewolf that wasn’t so grumpy after all was something Lydia could get used to.

And everything else would fall into place in the end.

 

**_The end_ **

 


End file.
